Killing us softly

It has been an awful couple of weeks, by far the worst of my life. Wherever I see, my own are dropping like flies. Either slowly while sick, or swiftly in a dreadful and painful way. Oh Lord if you can hear me, what have we done to deserve this? What sins have we committed if not just try to survive? This is too much for me, I can’t stand it anymore. But there is not much I can do, I’m too old. I’m too old to fight, too old to help my family, but most importantly, too old to die young. Now I’m here, breathing and waiting. Waiting longer than most others I know, waiting to die as my last breath will be taken away any moment now, while seeing my love ones die. One at a time, with a slow but certain death.

I still remember Jack’s death. Jack came out of our hiding place, one of the few brave ones that did, trying to find food for him and his family. Then, It spotted him. What a horrific sight I saw. With a single blow, It fatally injured Jack, but still he didn’t die. In unimaginable pain, Jack desperately moved his limbs everywhere asking for a merciful final blow that would end his suffering. But It didn’t kill him just yet. No, It was rejoicing in Jack’s pain. After what to me felt like forever, I can’t even imagine how Jack felt it, It struck again, ending Jack’s miserable final minutes. Even then, that wasn’t enough for It. Like Achilles in his blind rage and trip of power, when he took Hector’s body as a token of his victory, It did the same. It was not pleased just with Jack’s death so It took Jack's lifeless body and proceeded to defile it. It threw the corpse in the big round lake and shot at it with some seemingly toxic fluids, trying to sink Jack's floating body. It was a gruesome scene. One that as I watched from the iron mountain was too shocked to take my eyes off. One that will be in my memory until my, hopefully soon coming, deathbed.

Everyone knows that a similar faith awaits to those who leave the caves. A similar death is what anyone who is spotted by the beast can expect. And here we are, with no alternative. Stuck in this place, with no food and a poisonous air that takes away the life of the younger, and makes it excruciatingly painful for us elder ones to even breath. And while we may not have any food, we have no business trying to get any, as we know what has happened to those that tried.

So here we are, while It is killing us softly with Its gruesome tactics in this game of chess where we are in the losing end. Waiting for our time to come or for the next Jack that decides he’s got a chance of getting us something to eat. Jack was a brave cockroach indeed, but every day there are fewer like him, and our fate seems more certain than ever. I personally just want this to end.