The Wicked Designs of Death

January 30, 2008
By Rabiya Ghani, Bridgeview, IL

I NEVER saw anything more horrifying than the Death of my nearest and dearest. This was the worst nightmare for one and all. Death had raged over the town of Salem. Nothing was so hideous than Death itself. Nobody could explain Death, or could imagine it. Death was a king for all. As I walked slowly to my own dreary house, I could not bear to open the door. Death had taken over my home. I could not do anything, for Death was much stronger. My body shook with fear as I walked inside. Everything was in sorrow. I could not even tolerate that my own mother was on her death bed, coughing up blood. I knew from that gruesome blood that Death will seize her any moment now. I took her hand, as it was so cold like glacial ice. I tried my best to warm her, but failed. My mother was the most treasured person I had. She was a beautiful gift, and the loss of my mother was to Death. The next daylight, my cherished sister was confiscated from me. In the past, she was accused of being a witch, but she was not. In fact, my sister was an ordinary lady and she had the best heart of all. Nobody believed my words, as the men barged in to my home. These men were servants of Death. They were ordered to take any one that was picked by Death. My sister was selected by Death. The men grasped my sister like she was a piece of cloth. My mind screamed as I stared at her, struggling with the men---dressed in black. Their clothes were long, black cloak, with cruelty in them. There was no goodness in their own heart, as Death ruled them all. I crumpled to the floor, as my own sister was absent of my sight---my eyes were red with wrath. Just yesterday, my mother was gone, now my sister. I ran out the door, and followed the trail of my sister. I was so bitter---nothing will prevent me from seeing what Death did to her. The whispers were so terrible that I had to hold in my anger,
A lady looked at me like I was a plague. She was dressed finely, with all the beauty. I thought her unseen, as I sprinted to the cell---where all the innocent were. It was a long voyage to reach there. One thing I loathed about this journey was passing the courthouse. The courthouse was like a house of Death. Death would announce who will be the next one to die. Nobody would dare go inside the courthouse. Nobody could survive the wrath of Death. The courthouse was unusual---and frightening. When I passed it, I wanted it to be gone from my eyes, but it was always seen in the eyes of every men and women. There was a silence in the air when I walked by. Nobody would laugh, talk, or dare to sing the songs of joy. Rapidly, I dashed to get away from the courthouse---it seemed to have eyes. When I was free of the silence, I breathed in the air of laughter. I went on my way to see my sister. When I did get to the cell, I faced one man in long robe with spiteful eyes---looking at mine. He was a guard of the innocents. He will stare in the eyes of every chap and lady who passed his way, and nobody would want to go inside the cell, because it was unsuitable for them to see. I begged him to let me see my sister for the very last time. At first, he refused to let me, I was heartbroken. When I was about to pour all the tears to the ground, he putted his five fingers up, and I nodded with my eyes---shining. I thanked him for his conversion of his heart, and he shook his head.
“Do not make me do this, again. Let not our path cross, or there will be no mercy!”
After that harsh warning, he unfastened the cell, and hands groped on me. Darkness absorbed me---I was blind. I was not taken---just want to see my sister. I stifled my scream, and tried not to make a sound. All I saw were bodies lying on the floor that were like rocks. I made an effort not to stare at the bodies. They were so appalling, and tattered. I had to cry for all the innocent that had to endure this. I glanced around the chamber---hideous, gloomy, and sorrowful. I had only few minutes left; I glanced around once more, and glimpsed my lovely sister. I grew aghast at the sight of her. She was beaten up, and her scars were brutal---dried blood with freshly ones. Nevermore, she was stunning in my eyes. My sister was to be hung in the hours of darkness. I promised her that I will join her---soon. I caught her beautiful smile, and it gave me hope. I backed away---absorbing her. And she was no more. My own brain would not work as I ran to my ghastly home. I cursed Death for taking over my mother and my sister---but Death had more tactics for me to suffer. As I strolled, I observed the execution in the distance. I covered my ears to obstruct the screams of the dead. It was deafening for all. The corpses were swinging in the air---a fetid, bloodcurdling mass. The innocents were gone, with guilty, surviving. A crowd was jeering at the corpses, and was shouting the approval for the deadly hangings. I knew that I had to go to my father and my brother. They were the only ones I had left. I did not want to lose them to Death. I had to win---this ought to be my victory, not Death. A while later, something was evinced to me. A party was held in a distance from my home, and I witnessed the buffoons were standing around---having a prodigious revel. My judgment of them was callous. I got closer to the sight of the revel, but the scene vanished. I thought I saw my own mother and sister---dancing in the mid-air. It must be only a phantasm. The day had become to night---the shade of Death. I prayed that Death will be gone from my home, and I will be free like a bird flying in the breezy air. Unfortunately, my prayer will not be heard as I entered my home. It was so sinister---black, gloomy, shadowy, occupied with evil. There was a candelabrum in the corner---glowing like a shining star. I cried for my father and my brother, but there was no answer. There was a creaking sound behind me. I turned, and the door was wide open. The zephyr was in my home and breathed on me like a mother singing to her child. It made me forget all the dilemmas I had. I was about to soar with the zephyr, but then I remember about my father and brother. Trembling with anxiety, I cried for them again, but nothing. That moment, I knew that Death had impounded them---I lost my battle to Death. My muscular father and my youthful brother were the last loved ones I had. I wanted to find them, and see what Death’s scheme was for them. My desire of finding them was granted. I located their bodies---on my mother’s death bed. I could not believe my own eyes, as I gaped at them. Blood was everywhere, but I was not gawking at the shocking blood. I was looking at the face of my own father. He looked so peaceful, and I imagined him with an angel---flying freely just what I wished for myself. My own father left me---I felt so alone. My brother seemed not to be in a comfortable state next to my father. He was sprawled over the bed, with a dagger in his right hand. I looked in the eyes of my brother, and saw terror inside. He must have seen something terrible that nobody could have imagined. Looking at the cadavers, I howled with rage. My fury was red, hot, boiling fire. I will not let Death take any more of my own loved ones, but all was gone. Death was smart in wits, as I have ignorance in me. I wanted revenge---a sweet revenge. I carried my father and brother to bury them. The smell was acrid, and I could not take it any more. I whispered my last good-bye. My thoughts were in a jumble like puzzle pieces. Death took my own mother, sister, father and brother all in a short time. I wanted vengeance, but Death will not let me have it. I was a broken doll, with nothing in me. I was lifeless. My wish was for Death to take my own soul, and Death answered my call.

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