iCrazy

There once was a boy who had lost one of his most sentimental items. He looked and searched everywhere without a trace, or even a mention. Days had gone by with no clue of where to look next. He solemnly told his mother he would never give up. Many a sleepless night had gone by with tears running astray.

Weeks had gone by and even months. Lightly sleeping and dreaming of the repossession of his item with all hope for its return. As brightly orange as it is, you can’t miss it. It was his dream to become a cowboy some day. He missed it dearly.

Passing with each year the days grow weary. Present after present, it seemed as if nothing could compare, nor compete. With the lost tracking of time, and the everlasting threat of old age, mother said her last words as she gave her last breath.

“This here, my son, is what you have been searching for. I'm sorry for keeping it from you, but I couldn't bare another loss in my heart. I kept my mouth shut because I was afraid you would shoot your eye out, or worse. You see, I care for you so much. Please take care of yourself and my beautiful grandbabies. I will always love you with my last dying breath. I just didn't want you to remem...” as the last breath fainted away.

Looking at his cork gun with deep sorrow and confusion, he remembered his father. With a slight stain of blood on that very cork. This was the very gun that ended his father’s life. There was a burglar that had broken into the house that night. His father confronted the burglar, but the burglar picked up the nearest item and beat his father until there was no breath left to exhale. It was literally a bloody mess. After the burglar realized what he had done, he dropped everything and fled away.

That memory filled him with tears, and more memories. As each memory flashed before his eyes, more tears ran down his face falling upon the cork gun. He clenched the toy tighter and tighter, but it was sturdy. When he finally realized that he was weakened by his memories, he stood up and walked to the window. As he gazed at the singing birds and the kids riding bicycles down the sidewalk, he went into deep thought of what to do now that his mother has left him.

He paced. He mumbled like a psychiatric patient. He even laughed quite hysterically. He threw the gun down. He picked it up. He even spun in circles pretending to shoot a gang of soldiers. But he knew one thing for sure... The toy had to go.

He finally decided to throw it away. He walked outside and put it on one of the trash cans across the street. Be gone, astray and away it goes. Then he went back inside to his mother, but he could still see it out of the corner of his eye through the partially draped window. He sat there watching as the garbage man picks it up out of the trash. He got up, trying to stop him. Running out of the hospital like a madman with a death wish.

Nobody was there. He looked to the right, nothing. He looked to the left, a glimpse of the truck. He ran and ran to no avail. The truck disappeared into the distance never to return ever again. He didn't want for anyone to suffer anymore, but he couldn't stop him.

Standing in the middle of the street, he suddenly heard the sound of screeching tires and everything went dark. But that is an entirely different story.