They say when you die, your entire life flashes in front of
you for a few seconds in fast forward. But when you kill someone, your life stops.
You die for a second with the person you kill.
He stood there with his brown jacket on and blue jean
covered with dark red blood stains from the bullet shots. He was hollow just
like the holes in his body. His hollowness created a void of pain, silence, and
guilt in my heart.
I and my brother looked at each other to confirm our
senses. We were definitely looking at Uncle
Eric. The void in our heart became heavy. A rush of blood ran upwards towards
our head. The Entire graveyard was lit by the moon to showcase him. I loaded my
6MM, M15 and shot him between his eyes and buried him again in the same spot
where we buried him before. The smell of fresh lead confirmed this scenario and
the splash of red velvet blood moistened the grave soil and broke the tension.
We buried him deeper this time and settled for a smoke. I
saw vapors emerging from my fingers and moving upwards towards the dark ink
clouds that covered the moon.
The clouds just drifted from one side to the other without
worrying about anything. I was jealous for a second. I wanted to be like them.
Gradually the clouds passed and revealed the moon again. It lit the entire
graveyard.
A hunch, a sensation, and an alarming effect made us turn and
look back. Uncle Eric was standing there with a hole in his head, chest, and
pelvic area. The head rush was back, the
tension was intense and my entire body shivered with fear. My hands were
shaking with the M15. Though there was no movement or any indication of action
from Uncle Eric, his stillness was alarming. I strained my hands and pulled a
shot again. The bullet hit his chest and he fell down.
Step by step I approached him cautiously. Something was
different now. It was not Uncle Eric, it was my brother.
Ashwin Muralidharan...
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