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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1823945-The-Boy-who-would-be-Man
Rated: 18+ · Essay · Emotional · #1823945
Short story about a boy-
I am watching from afar as the scene unfolds. It is like a movie except it is the story of my demise. I am calm now detached from the emotional turmoil below me. So well I know the despair and sadness that vibrates around the eerie graveyard. I listen to the chatter in their minds familiar with the messages and the voices--once upon a time these invaded my very core. No more my friends, I am safe now at peace.

The thunder resonates through the graveyard as the mourners huddle together. The wind whistles a sad lament and the raindrops plop angrily on the crowd. Each head is bowed with shame and guilt -every shoulder carrying a heavy burden.

I bear no grudges now. I see and hear everything. I feel the intense pain that encircles the mourners. I can only watch as tears pour down the crevises of many faces. I want to shout * its too late now*.However I remain mute.

I watch as they nudge forward to my family like drowned rats. I listen as they offer their condolenses. I hear the question they pose to themselves and others. My mother is distraught overwhelmed by the events of the last few days. The voices in my Dad's head are incessant--repeating my name over and over and asking why?

The signs were there forever but nobody seemed to notice or care. I tried on numerous times to ask for help , alas the words would not form on my lips. The despair invaded my being slow and steady. It sapped my energy and eventually distorted my mind. I fought valiantly at the onset, however the despair had supernatural strength and won the battle..

The coffin is being lowered in the grave. The sobs of my family intensify. My mother stumbles and screams my name. Large arms encircle her , offering solace. The thunder roars as the first shovel of soil hits the coffin.The priest begins the eulogy, the mourners respond absent mindly , the solitary robin chirps, the melody from the loan piper fills the air. Each mourner is asking the same question *Why oh why?*.
Suddenly there is a roar of thunder, a flash of lighting and slowly in the horizon an angel of God appears. The brightness blinds the crowd–and the silence is eternal and then the angel speaks to the mourners.



The angel said-

*I bring you the answers you seek. The Lord requested that I end your search. The boy that would be man took his life on the 6th Nov 2011 AD.



He lived within your community for 23 years. To each of you I say you are guilty to some degree of his fate.To those who bullied him,shame on you.To others who ignored and rejected him, live with the consequences. To the people who ignored his pleas for help, justice will be served.To the community who stigmatised his illness,your contribution sealed his fate. To the friends who did not support the boy who would be man and his family,remeber your day will come*

The skies turned black with rage, and pebbles of hail pelted from the sky. The lone piper played his music and the muffled sobs continued.




The Angel continued

*I gave you ears but you did not listen–your eyes were closed–you did not speak to help but rather to hinder. The hands that rock the cradle did not rock this boy who would be man. Instead those hand remained clasped and never reached out to help him. The tears you cry now are tears of shame but as they flow -ponders on the tears of the boy in the darkness of night, alone and isolated and weep my friends for what you could have done. You are the anchor in the storm but you chose to drift. You could have been his salvation but you refused to go that extra mile. Now people you must live with the choices you have made and remember that the boy who would be man is no more. Fret no more, he is now in the bossom of a better place. This is the message I give to you. You have the answer to the questions and each of you must carry the burden of blame that applies to you. I am the Angel of the Lord*

The skies calmed and the angel faded from view. The thunder rolled in the faraway hills. The piper played and the mourners filed silently from the graveyard, heads bowed and eyes downcast.The sobs of the mother resonated as she grieved for her son, the boy who would be man.


I watch from the skies remembering the life that was.I feelisympathy for all below me. I hope they have learned something. Somehow I believe humans are too selfish and will learn nothing. Later that night I decide to check on ny mother. As I descend to earth I see many other boys ending their lives. My heart is heavy.All around families sleep . Deep in the night in many towns, another boy who would be man chooses to exit this life.
© Copyright 2011 siobhandarby (siobhandarby at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1823945-The-Boy-who-would-be-Man