December 18, 1952

To Whomever Finds This:

Sometimes I see things.
Many don’t believe and I don’t blame them. Walking down the street I see strange sight after sight. Ghosts: there one second and gone the next. I used to perform an involuntary double-take but, by now, I’ve taught myself to fight the impulse. Back then, I would’ve asked others if they saw, but the only response I got in return was an expression of fear. Then they ran away; not before I saw the look in their eyes’ screaming at me.
“He’s insane!” Every now and then they would tell me to sit down and take a drink of water. Then again, they might be right.

He whispers in my ear. I yell at him to shut up, but he is his own person, yet has no body. Instead, he uses mine, an unwanted siamese twin. As if the devil and angel are on my shoulder, but one is mute. Everyday I hear the murmurs of the end… my end.
You would think I would describe these mysterious feats but, in all honesty, I can’t comprehend them very well. I mean… if a person was to.. and then… Gah! It hurts my brain trying.
I never understood the human body. Even at our lowest point, we somehow find the strength to keep putting one foot in front of another, trudging through the same rut left by our ancestors. There are people in the world who treat their bodies with such care, they never go outside. On the other hand, some make a living breaking every bone twice, selling their bodies to the rich white man, give their sanity to the so called "scientists" trying to "find a cure." They sell more than themselves... They sell their future.
Oh dear! I still haven’t told you who I am. After all, what’s a story without a over descriptive paragraph or two on what the person looks like. Every story has the main character highlighting specific features. Well, might as well treat this as a game then. A simple, imaginary game for your mind. I have raven black hair that goes to my ears and never farther. My eyes are brown. That’s it; just brown. What were you expecting? Hazelnut with a bit of black spots around my iris? In the mirror in front of me I look… “normal” for lack of better words, but their pictures tell a different story. My eyes are too far from my nose and my forehead is too large for my round face. They say I'm a face you could notice a mile away, but I know I fade into the crowd. There! That should be enough to give you an idea of who you’re reading about.
Now I have a question for you my dear reader. Do you think I’m insane? Lost my marbles and just rambling on? After all, why would I write in such a jumpy way? Surely there must be something wrong with me.
“You must be a mental asylum patient,” you’re probably thinking at this point. Ahh… But alas, I am not. I merely tell the truth I see with eyes of white.
“Eyes of white?” Of course. The person who declared black as evil declared white as pure and clean. I see what is real and nothing less.
“You’re a criminal! That’s it. It explains everything!” But does it?
Sigh. You simply aren’t getting it, are you reader? This isn’t a story about me. It’s much more than that. Must I explain every minute detail? Will that make you happy? Fine then.
Once upon a time, there was a world full of vicious beasts. They knew they were the superior species in the land, and they decided to use the power for their own evil purposes. They killed all the creatures of the air, land , and sea, until nothing was left except them. Then, to find out who was the best, they fought each other. Gallons of blood were spilled, and no one survived. This was the end of all living creatures on this world. The end.
There, are you happy? Look, I’m trying to warn you. Humans’ greed will be their downfall. Perhaps the most evil, deadly sin of all. Scientific progression brings the end closer, and global warming causes us to inch toward an uninhabitable world. All for what? A few extra lives saved when there are far too many populating the continents. Believe me, humans are narcissistic and will do anything to flourish, whether it be creating penicillin or destroying mountains at their bases.
People call me a maniac, bizarre, a criminal, but trust me, they’re wrong. Sometimes all that is needed to explain the world in the perspective of a single person is one word: framed. Then again, who doesn’t blame the other suspect for their crime? Who doesn’t steal a pencil then keeps it? Who doesn’t say it’s the dog? Who doesn’t hold a hostage at gunpoint? And eject a steel ball into the brains of the pleading? No? Just me?
Oh please, I am offended. Do you think I’m stupid enough to write my own confession? I mean that’s under the pretense I even did something. You have only known me for what? Two, three minutes long? Well, congratulations! You are a rude, judgemental person. Strangely, not so different from the rest of them. Accusing, imprisoning, assuming, executing, then ignoring the blood in which stains your hands.
Remember the visions I have? I finally found the words to describe them. Pain is not a thing that disappears. Sometimes we hurt others, but other times it’s ourselves we have to worry about. We all have the impending doom of death haunting over us but some can numb themselves to it better than others. The problem is, death is the only true sympathy we have in this world. Any diseased person holds their loved ones closer to their heart than the baby who knows nothing more. As humans we fear death when others view us as so. If these are the last words I leave to this world, then so be it.

Sincerely,

Colin O'Donoghue

Afterwards

The voices outside reach their cold, dead hands into the holding cell like the sun’s rays to the Earth. Loud echoes of boots on cement are the bells chiming at the funeral he will never have ringing in his ears. Dread filled his stomach and weights carried down his feet, drowning him in everything but guilt. All of this for something he didn't even do. They put the noose around his neck loosely.
“Murderer,” they whisper to each other.
“Blasphemy.”
He didn't scream, struggle, or flinch when the man behind him tossed the rope over the branch. The sheriff then tightened the noose; not enough to start suffocating the man on stand but enough to make it difficult to breathe. He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down his throat. Then, all at once, everything was still.
Not one person or thing dared to challenge the gloom surrounding them. Death glared into each and every eye of the audience, only reminding them of the inevitable. No matter what they did or do, they will end up bowing at his feet, kissing the shoes they've run away from for so long. Today, he has won, as he will forever.