Pendulum

“Erith.” I whispered, as I walked in. It was a cold day, the fog was dense. So dense that though you could tell you were in a forest, you couldn’t see any trees. The forest was a whisper away from falling, and every step you took reminded you that the forest was old and dead.

She was sitting down on the floor, worn and tired. Silently, she looked up at me and then at my left hand, holding the bloodied knife.

The forest stood still as I waited for her to assess the situation.

We looked at each other again and said nothing; there wasn’t anything to say anymore. Both of us knew what had happened.

In fact, both of us knew what would happen too. As she stood up, I grabbed the bags from the sides of the cave, careful to not stain the bags with blood. Looking around outside of the cave, I surveyed the white, unforgiving mist. There was only silence.

Sighing, she tapped my shoulder and mentioned for me to follow her. It was then I realized that it was fortunate I was paired up with her. She knew this area well, and we would have no problems finding what we needed.

We walked through the forest, leaves quietly crunching under our feet. The forest gave me the chills, especially because of the fog. Everything just seemed so white. I wasn’t sure if I was looking at anything; I sure couldn’t see my feet. I felt the wind blow as Erith stopped and mentioned that we were here.

I knelt down to the ground, feeling for the ledge. Sure enough, it was there. I pulled the bag off of my back and opened it. Methodically, I felt around for the parts inside the bag. I had done this so many times before. The mount. The body. The barrel. The grip. The scope. The cartridge. They clicked together, a satisfying sound of completeness. I settled in position, prone against the cold rock, as I clicked the safety off. Erith, next to me, was already dug in, looking through her binoculars.

Again, we said nothing. We both knew we needed to wait. The sun began to rise farther into the sky, and with it, the fog started to lift. Through my scope, I could start to make the details of the city. It was small. There was a quaint diner and a small hotel. A house, a van in the driveway. A child, walking to school. Some people milled about, happily greeting others on the street.

I held the small city in the palm of my hand.

“B” She said, silently.

I shifted my body over a little bit, and recalibrated my rifle.

I could see him through the window inside the hotel, reading, wistfully smiling when he turned the pages. The smile evaporated, replaced by an impending sense of doom.

But I waited; although I needed him in the room, I couldn’t break the glass.

Soon, he stood up, placed the photo album on the table, and left, reappearing in the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator door slowly, and picked out a soda can. He looked at it, frowned, but popped it open anyway. Turning around towards the windowed door, he sighed. It was going to be a long day for him. He opened the door, and took two steps out to the patio.

He looked at me. I could feel it in his eyes.

Despair. Betrayal. Helplessness.

He didn’t have much left. It was ending for him, he could feel it. His life was crumbling around him, everything he used to have was gone. Family. Friends.

The crushing feeling that nothing was going right. The sensation of throwing up, crying. His face crumpled as he looked at me.

I was in that position, once.

Not anymore.

I could sympathize, but for him it was different. It wouldn’t be long now. He took the last sip of the drink, and turned around. My finger tensed.

One step.

“Forgive me,”

Two steps.