Arrival.

Now that you have gained this knowledge what will you do? Nothing. If only the walls could tell you what they have seen. What they see now. Death and blood. Sorrow and pain. You cannot hear them weep as spirits of the people float from their bodies towards the stars above. Travelling from this world to the next. If only the walls could tell you what they have seen. If only they could. But I will tell you. I will.
The room overflows with the sick and wounded. The dying and the bereaved. I lie propped up on a bed in the corner of a large sterile room. One among many. My legs wide open. Those closest to me huddled around my bed. Preying to God. For my survival. The survival of my child. His name will be Sabelo. King among men. I did not want it to ever be this way.

All around are screams of agony. Madness. The fear of death. I feel his presence here more than anywhere else I have ever been. He rubs his evil hands together. Eagerly waiting for his next victims. Never having to wait long. There is a constant stream of unfortunates that flow in. Victims of gunshots and knife wounds. Burns and accidents. Bodies of those who have given up and tired of life. Death. He laughs as he watches the spirits leave their bodies and float towards the sky. Laughs at their cries. The walls will tell you that they have never seen a spirit not cry. It has never happened. You may not think this would be the case. But if the walls could speak they would tell you it was. There is never any joy in a persons passing. Only sadness. Only regret. A fear of judgment by a higher being.

My mother speaks softly into my ear telling me that everything will be all right. But I know this is not the case. I am too far-gone. There is but one more task to do. Then it will be over. I have no choice in the matter. I feel death’s cold grasp around my neck and know that I cannot break free. A doctor and fat nurse walk down the hurriedly hallway. Speaking of a patient from whose head an axe protrudes. Poor soul. Of all the ways to go. My mother breaks free from my grasp and runs toward them. I try to tell her not to go. That these are our last fleeting moments together. But I am weak and must save the last of my strength so that he may come into this world. She pleads for the pair to come and attend to me. Pointing vigorously with her finger to where I lie. Salty tears streaming down her face. All the nurse says in return is ‘we will be there soon,’ and with that quickly brushes my mother away. She runs back to my bedside and takes my hand in hers. Holding it tight. How I love her. How she loves me. How I will miss her. How she will miss me. She sobs into my ear that everything will be okay. The sweet lies we tell. Death’s grasp around my neck tightens and I hear his evil laugh. Smell his foul breath. The walls pulsate and cry. For me and everyone in here. The walls. Their existence is not one to be envied. They wait for this place to be demolished. Oh how they wait for that day . And it is close now. My death. So close. I look towards the face of my mother. One last time. Though she is old she is still beautiful. A queen. My eyes close and with what is left inside of me I give one last push. I feel him leave my body. Hear his scream. Sabelo. My son. King among men. Alive. And then I am floating above it all. Watching it all. My aunt cries and holds and holds my son in her arms. He is beautiful. My mother begs for me to wake up. Shaking my limp body. Screaming. I reach out to her. But I am floating upwards. Floating through the ceiling. Through the clouds. To the stars. I cry. I cry. Death. I hear his evil laugh. How I hate him. How I hate myself. Life and death. This terrible cycle. Will it ever end?