Part 2: Can You Hear Me
The harshness of the weather outside my home made the chill in the air horrid. My daughter shouted for no reason to my wife for her to die and then she fell limp. I sat there stunned, what was I to do? Was this an actual thing? Was my wife rising right afterwards (which too was frightening) going to be affective as a good thing or bad?
I sat there as she did her thing and thought nothing of it, but she had told me of the same thing that was happening to me, but what was it?
She, my wife, began picking up the living room, so calming down, I thought that I would bring it up again…
“So, about those thumping sounds, what are they? Any idea?”
“Oh darling, they are nothing to worry about. It will be your time soon enough.”
Nothing more was spoken. She just silenced herself despite my numerous attempts at speaking. I can say I was more scared of what she was acting like than saying. She cleaned like she had never done before, the room when she was done, I could eat off the floor of I wanted to. Marching down the hall, she began knocking down everything that was not attached to the wall securely. Pictures shattered on the floor, glass all over and she was stepping through them as she walked back. She acted as though the glass did not affect her feet. I noticed that there happened to be a piece that went clean through her foot as to where there was a broken piece sticking out, blood was oozing out of the wound carpeting the bare floor that we shared.
A finger rose from her hand and pointed it at the wall that was closest to her and it too began to wiggle, then crumble on top of her. With the wall caving in, the smoke from the debris only led to the fascination of my own curiosity of why and how it fell after removing the glass frames, (which are now sticking out from her feet) and getting herself covered in white powder. What was that, that thing she did? How did the finger cause that? What is that unusual power that my wife now possesses?
Suddenly, surrounding me was the remnants of our home, there was nothing but the foundation, and I had no idea when it fell. However, I sat there seemingly to stare off into a world that did not exist. I had at the time, no idea what was happening and nor did I realize it. Suddenly, my wife and daughter collide face to face…
“Never shall you touch the man that I desire, you shall not have him!” my daughter shouted at her mother, the anger that was in her face shone so bright and frightening, there was nothing but anger and pain.
“He is not yours, but mine slut!” my wife retaliated.
They stepped closer to me, their anger apparent, their fists balled and seemed like they were ready to destroy one another. However, though they have the lack of control over their raging shouts which became white noise in my ears, when out of the blue…
I placed my hands over my chest and pain shot throughout my entire body. I rose off the couch and made it the front door somehow. I do not really know how, the world was spinning and felt like I was about to fall at any point in time. The pain shot through me once more and crippled my arms, the door I found was not there but an opening of what was once a door.
Imaging the idea that there was a door there, then not being one, no more locks nor opening and closing of a squeaky hinge. But I looked as I placed my hand on the side wall that remained and waited. Dizziness slowed and I was able to see things to a degree, when I moved once more, I stood upright and walked slowly down to the steps that guarded my house. I stepped slowly downward and rolled over the final step as I stood by up, I found myself and walked to the mailbox.
I heard the screaming from the distance of the mailbox, then taking a step further onto the road, I found myself walking in a direction that was familiar, but not. The houses there on the street, were all the same, the houses were baren and torn down to where there was nothing there. Nothing but the foundations of the homes remained. Men there, boys, all males were finding themselves on the street, mindlessly walking in the same direction as I was. We all had the same look, feel to one another as the other, then without hesitation, we all turned to the right and headed onward toward the mall that was two cities away. Though we knew the direction and how long the walk was, we still walked the direction that was plagued into our minds.
Together we walked slowly, keeping the same pace as other men and young men were beside me. I could not help but notice that we all looked at one another with the same face, like we could communicate telepathically yet we were unable to read each other’s thoughts. Sadly, and yet we still march properly toward the exit of our neighborhood.
From the design of the walk, there was nothing around us. There were no fires, there were no revolts. The wives and daughters we all heard shouting the same thing back and forth about some unknown man taking them into himself. Who was this? Why did we have to walk to the mall? What is at the mall? Will it be our end?
Throughout the walk, we marched slowly, carefully, tired. There was nothing more than the walk for us.
Nothing in the town that we all belonged to, nothing at all.
All buildings were nothing but rubble and the women folk were standing around yelling at one another.
What was our demise? What was out there? Are we done for or are we being repurposed?
Repurposed for what?
Who are you?
I am me, the one who wants you and your family. Come to me.
Who are you Mr. Me?
I am me, like I said. Come to me and you will find out.
The thoughts of that someone called Mr. Me as gone, but the feeling that there was something more was alluring. I walked. I walked like I had a choice, but at the same time, I felt as though I did not. I walked with others, who they too seemed to have a more chipper face upon them, but I was not able to see the masses, though the masses were there behind me to travel onward, but who was he? His voice which I cannot describe was not only alluring but also favorable. It was like this plague of man was not for nothing, but we walked for something.
We all stopped together at the red light. I took my chance to look around and see the surroundings here in the middle of my city. There were no buildings standing, the rubble carpeted the roadway and the parking lots of the business that were once standing. The look of shattered men and their young or teenage sons were something that I was unable to describe. Hence why now they joined our ranks is unknown, but still the invasion continued.
Who were they?
Who was that man that spoke to me?
Mr. Me, what am I to do?
Come to me.
All of you, come to me.
Leave your wives and daughters and come to me.
Take the lead and guide them all to me.
Roger sir, I am your man.
I feel like my voice was coming back and so I tried speaking:
“Attention Fellow Crawlers!” my voice was not my own, who was this voice, who am I? “We are in range of more men and young men to join our ranks! Follow me as we gather our forces!”
No one said anything, they all instead raised their arms high in the air with closed fist.
We marched on, the roadway was scattered, broken and littered with building debris. The remains of the buildings were scattered about the roadway, trying not to touch them for fear of death or injury, we did our best to walk around them. Some men and young boys stepped on them without thinking, they just walked on top of them pretending that they were not there. How they did that is unclear, they saw them, they knew that they were there but still, waking on them could have been bad.
Another red light and it felt like it was time for another announcement, “Fear Not My MEN, We Are Better Than Those Feminine Types. March Onward! Follow Me!” here again my voice was not the same, here I heard something that I would not say, the passion and power in my voice. It was something that drawn the others into a loud frenzy of stomping in place, hands raised high into the sky. Here it appeared to me that we all herd a Mr. Me, but I appeared to be the only one with a voice that was not mine. Who was I? why did I sound like that? Who or what am I and what is happening to me? To us?
Alone I felt…
Yet strong and powerful as I thought I at one time could be. In the military, I was a lowly 0811 but now I am someone, according to Mr. Me, I am someone special. At least that what I told myself. No matter the basic thought or the training that I received long ago, now I found myself in charge of a phantom of people. At the red light, I looked around and saw the overly large cast of characters that have joined us going down as far as a quarter mile. But at the same time, it seemed like it went on for miles.
The light turned green, and we marched on.
On toward the mall, a place where we knew that we were going. A place where we may get answers. A place where someone wanted us? Were we all the same? Did our wives and daughters hate us? Is it that there was something more for us? Why were we marching? What was the purpose?
These questions and more were developing in my mind and it seemed to go on till the boarder of our city when we crossed instantly into yet another.
Crossing over a bridge to get to our destination, I noticed a building still intact. There was one down by the river that flowed through the town, almost like a boarder between us, but the city limits and going into a new one was instantaneous. How then could a river not be the in between?
The building was on the river side on the bottom right, it was some sort fish factory type of building where in the day prior, you could eat seafood there. It was a great building and to see it still standing gave me an ounce of hope. But then, I looked forward. I saw the devastation all throughout the city and as we walked, there was nothing but disdain of men, capture of loss, these men awaited us and joined in on the march.
Together as we rounded the corner, we found that the women folk were gathering on the riverbank on the opposite side and staring at us men folk. What was their purpose? Why were they just standing around and not joining us?
Tired feet, tired arms and head, we marched on. My thoughts seemed to be my own and I wondered if the other men were the same. I tried to stop the group but was unable to, I could not speak either, though here too I tried. Why could I not speak when I wanted to? Why could I not stop walking and take a break? I was hungry, tied and felt exhausted, like my body was ready to give out. What were we to do?
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