Lost innocence

May 28, 2008
By Danny Jimenez, Aurora, CO

A gentle breeze blew over the long dewy green grass, making the giant emerald pines rustle in its presence. The heavy tears from heaven had finally ceased leaving its crystalline drops upon the gentle snow white petals of the single white rose that lay before me, it signified purity peace and innocence but most of all, the emotional link between the one that laid it and the one that now lay buried to an eternal rest underneath it. It was a small momentum in remembrance of a bond that was once shared. Above me the sky was now clear, with the last rays of sunlight gleaming over the snow capped mountaintops, coloring the heavens in a pink and orange radiance, moments before complete darkness. There hadn't been a soul since I arrived; the scene was desolate with only the rasp of the wind and an occasional cry of a raven to shatter the silence around me. I preferred it that way I was in a reflective state of mind the peace and tranquility helped me focus on the clash of emotions and the stirring of thoughts within. That white rose lay before a gleaming black marble headstone, adorned with a golden cross with figures of archangels Michael and Gabriel engraved to its sides, the right and left hand of god. Below that lay the name of the one who lay to rest beneath the very earth I stood upon forever engraved into the stone. Around this tombstone lay a graveyard that held 9 more headstones engraved with names I knew and loved and now stand before them in a mere memory of the lives they once had gazing at the reflection of their deaths.
The value of some ones life cannot be measured of missed more than by the ones they've loved. A bond of memories and feelings, strong enough to last beyond death and endure the passage of all time. As strong as love can be for the life of someone near, life itself is fragile in that it's indefinite in every sense. Every single one comes to an end. Its life's limit that makes time so precious to us, its that limit that should make us appreciate every moment and everyone as such, because deaths grasp cant be foreseen and no ones tomorrow is ever certain.
Two pm read the large clock that stood overlooking the busy streets of Mexico City filled with the lives of the 18 million and some people that reside within its society. People, cars and buildings completely dominate the landscape, above encompassed a vast blue sky with no trace of any cloud that would diminish the gleaming suns light on the city. Across the street stood a large bank, a man with dark skin tone and jet black hair around 20 years of age came out of its tinted black glass doors, wearing a white business suit, a gold Rolex around his wrist and curved sea blue shades that reflected the thriving city before him. In his hand he held a large metallic briefcase and is accompanied by 2 other men in black suits. They walk down the banks steps onto the streets where they are met by a black hummer which they board. Almost immediately a navy blue SUV comes to a stop at its side. Its tinted windows rolling down only to reveal in a flash of action 2 dark leather gloved hands grasping guns, in an instant a brigade of bullets pierced the air into the hummer, round after round every bullets escape rang the air, for a split second it was the only sound heard until panic set into those around and the shots were now scarcely muffled with screams. A few clips later and the navy blue SUV forced its way through the now scattered traffic, off into the city and out of sight. The giant LCD clock above the streets now read 2:37 in white light below the streets were now busy with paramedics, cops and reporters and the flashing of cameras and badges. The area was surrounded with the familiar yellow tape of a crime scene. The commotion centering around a once elegant hummer now riddled with bullet holes and stained with the cold red blood of the corpses that lay within, my cousins once white suite was now drowned in his own blood. He along with the 2 others were all pronounced dead upon arrival.
A sudden rustle in a nearby bush brought me out of my grim flashback. It was a wolf draped in thick ghostly grey fur. Its face covered in blood that flowed from the flesh torn rabbit gripped tightly in its fanged teeth. He stood still and gazed at me with sharp deep black eyes that reflected the white full moon that now dominated the heavens above me. His head and gaze suddenly turned towards the graveyard and he stalked off into the night. I sat and leaned against an angelic statue, lifting my head towards the stars and the moon whose light glimpsed into the graveyard leaving other parts in total darkness. My gaze turned towards my cousin's grave to the far left of me. His resting place adorned with a tall white angelic statue some parts glowing in the moonlight and some parts hidden by the night, at the head of the statue laid blood red roses and a golden crucifix.
I had only seen my cousin a month before; I was there due to the sudden and inexplicable disappearance of his father, my uncle. He was a wanted man on both sides of the fence by both the cops and the mafia. We knew he could be in either one of two situations, either of which shattered my aunt's heart and weighed heavily on all our minds and souls. He was in a state of mental instability and paranoia in which he'd trust no one not even his family and would hide as best and as far as he could from those trying to kill him. On the other hand he may have already been killed; they just hadn't found the body yet. In either case he'd never be seen or heard from again.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

Parkland Book