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Paradise in Your Hands

Last updated on December 24th, 2017 at 11:17 am

By Abdiel Lopez

The wavering ocean lay before me moving methodically and rhythmically to a lullaby I already knew. Tonight I spend my tiresome body on the same grains of sand that I spent the week before, and the week before last week, and so on. The tears poured down my prominent cheekbones, tearing apart the molecules that once held my skin tight and beautiful after I applied mascara just hours before the weekly ritual. There’s nothing left to do; his voice resonates against my eardrums every second of my life.

I remember when they took him against his will; his fragile legs quivered while his eyes let out a desperate cry. The merciless beasts disguised in military wear smacked him hard enough to leave him unconscious. Blood came seeping out of his nostrils and gushed out from between the freshly made tooth gap the attacker made. I was tied to a pole as I tried with everything I had inside to fight once again, but I had already fought for too long to fight one last time.

As I walk up to the ocean, I notice the fractured reflection of the moonlight on the surface. My reflection no longer mirrors the juvenile and ambitious young woman I once was. I fought against the Big Ones for so long. I remember walking with a sea of people behind me on a blistering hot day. Walking for a cause, walking for The Cause, but the Big Ones always said that The Cause was not their priority. Ever since then my thirst for justice gained momentum. How could a human being say that The Cause was not a priority? How sick are these people? For days without ends I asked myself the same questions until I finally decided to drown all my preoccupations and finally faced the Big Ones head-to-head.

Slowly, the arms of the oceans reel me inwards as if wanting to embrace me. Though the pressure is hard to take it seems like it’s the only way to finally let this war begin its end. I know I have done my very best to protect those who believed in my voice, but there is nothing left to do when my dignity shattered the day my own temple was vandalized. I know people will carry out my legacy, but my devotion for him overtakes my need to protect The Cause.

My soul will rest when The Cause finally becomes just. For now it’s over. I’m not giving up; I’m just giving in. I’m slipping underneath to the cold and sweet pit. Maybe there I will see him once again. (Never let me go.)