“Here’s the first flash fiction I’ve ever done. Wrote it for class a while back.” -Justin, October 2013.
I’m falling faster than my tears now. The salty liquid spheres hovering around my face. It’s amazing how clear your mind can be after suffering so much pain. The betrayal in my brother eyes as he squeezed the trigger. The moment of shock as the bullet pushed itself through my suit and me out of the plane. The last image flashed over and over in my mind: my raven haired Father watching the whole scene apathetically; the picture of his younger self dying in front of him doesn’t even faze the old man.
The silence of imminent death won out against the screaming wind at terminal velocity. That once terrifying threshold now seems a sweet release as wind blew through my black hair. Letting go, I watched as the last flicker of light fade away in the dusk sky. My hazel eyes closed, I wait now for the cold embrace of my mistress. How strange that I should so soon be a part of her crowded company, when I’ve sent her so many before me for same man that now condones my death. My hubris as I carried out my assignments had given me a sense of invincibility, a sense of immortality. How foolish of me to have once thought I could outrun the Curse of Adam.
My eyes snapped open. A whisper out the abyss just loud enough to pierce the veil. Was it real? Or a shattered piece of a fevered dream?
It’s getting louder now. A voice long dead cried out against the coming oblivion. It was inside of me. But it wasn’t my voice, was it? It seems familiar, as familiar to me as the first time father called out my name.
A fire rekindled itself in the ashes, and forced its way into my veins. It spread like a virus, crawling hungrily up and down my appendages. It’s burning up everything; hopes, fears, dreams, nightmares, nothing seems to satisfy. What does it want? Why can’t I have peace?
What do you want?
I opened my mouth but all that came out was blood. As abruptly as the voice appeared, my mind clicked. I don’t know where the voice came from. I don’t know what it’s doing to me. I don’t even know how long I’ve been falling anymore. But I know what I have to do. Flames lit up in the hazel glare of my eyes: vengeance. I pushed at my arms, but every muscle united to rebel against me. With the last of my strength I reached out into the void; one last act of defiance against fate. Impossibly, inconceivably, a hand reached back and took mine, grabbing me and pulling the cords of a parachute.
Word Count: 448