Reflections

REFLECTIONS

Dressed in rags, barefooted, we walk one step at a time, Right, Left, Right, Left. Our little group, 5 people, TRAITORS! TRAITORS!, pushed tightly up against each other, surrounded by armed clones. Chains around our wrists and ankles rattles as we move, Right, Left, Right, Left. We’re not much more than skeletons, one skeleton, two skeletons, three skeletons, four skeletons, five skeletons, but we keep our feet going, Right, Left, Right, Left. The barrel of a gun against the back of my head and a monotone voice repeating Right, Left, Right, Left. We follow a trail, we all know where it ends. We know where it ends and the clones know where it ends. One noose, two nooses, three nooses, four nooses, five nooses. TRAITORS! TRAITORS!

The trail through the town seems never-ending, but will end so soon, I know it. I know where it ends. We walk pass the “houses”. Giant steel barns, at night storing thousands of people. clones standing guard. There’s a strong smell of sickness and urine coming from within our “homes”.
Right, Left, Right, Left, we keep walking as we are supposed to. We’re supposed to walk on this never-ending trail, through all parts of the town. To scare our friends, I guess. Or to prolong the wait. Or both, I guess.
The clones are everywhere. Lots of them. Standing on the sides of the trail, keeping watch. Clutching their weapons. They don’t make eye contact, but they see us. I spot a vicious smile lingering on the lips of every one of them. They know where the trail ends.

It’s funny ‘cause, with today’s technology you can kill somebody in a thousand different ways. But the clones choose the nooses. One noose, two nooses, three nooses, four nooses, five nooses. It’s tradition, I guess. Or, it’s the most dramatic. Or both, I guess.

We pass the mines. Diamond mines. The clones like their pretty things. Slavery as far as the eye can reach. Hundreds of clones watching. Shooting if necessary. Watching the originals so carefully. With those smiles. The clones are evil. EVIL! EVIL! EVIL! They think they’re more than just experiments. They’re just the consequence of fancy scientists wanting to be all clever and geniuses and shit. Stupid scientists. Thinking they could change the world, thinking they were so smart. They changed the world all-right. But when it became clear, the clones didn’t come with a sense of empathy, they didn’t feel so smart. Now the clones do the cloning and they clone every one of us. To expand their empire. And they think they are more than us. But they are just copies. COPIES! COPIES! COPIES!

It’s awful when you see a familiar face. The clones are worse when you know their faces. A clone of someone you know. You can do nothing but remind yourself that it’s not them. THAT IS NOT YOUR FRIEND KILLING AN INNOCENT MAN. THAT IS NOT YOUR FRIEND SHOOTING A PERSON IN THE FACE. That is a monster. And we live in a monster’s world.

“STOP!” We stop. In front of us other originals passes the trail. They’re dragging dead bodies to the “graveyard”, to throw on top of the pile. They are followed by clones clutching their weapons, ready to shoot if necessary. “GO!”We keep going, Right, Left, Right, Left.

The never-ending trail will end soon. Past the cages and the clinic and over the hill, and then the trail ends in one noose, two nooses, three nooses, four nooses, five nooses. I can feel the woman to my left shaking. She’s crying. I realize, I’m crying too.

I close my eyes as we reach the cages, I only concentrate on taking one step at the time, Right, Left, Right, Left. I taste the salt of my tears and keep moving, Right, Left, Right, Left. I open my eyes again, at the screams of the clinic. “MEDICAL CARE” is written in pale letters above the door. Nobody who is taken in there ever comes out.

There’s a crowd. I can hear a crowd. Talking, Laughing. Shouting. Right. Left, Right, Left, up over the hill.
The clones are everywhere. Lots of them. Tons of them. Next to the cheering crowd of clones, is an enclosure, packed with originals, forced to watch. When the clones notice us, their shouts become unison and hateful.
TRAITORS! TRAITORS! TRAITORS!
TRAITORS! TRAITORS! TRAITORS!
TRAITORS! TRAITORS! TRAITORS!

But it’s all background noise. My focus is somewhere else. On the end of the trail. On one noose, two nooses, three nooses, four nooses, five nooses. A gallows. A platform with a crossbeam supported at both ends. Suspended from the bar are one noose, two nooses, three nooses, four nooses, five nooses. And build into the platform are one trapdoor, two trapdoors, three trapdoors, four trapdoors, five trapdoors.

They push us up a little ladder, and then here we stand so neatly in a row, at the end of the trail, one skeleton, two skeletons, three skeletons, four skeletons, five skeletons. I look to the crowd. The two groups of beings. Originals and clones. The silence from the originals are as loud as the cheer from the clones. I notice several faces that look alike. The originals are just skin and bones, their faces are worn-down, evidencing years of abuse. Terror is the color of their eyes. The clones, well they are the opposite. They’re healthy, beautiful, happy. But it’s definitely the same faces.
I feel a rope being placed around my neck. I glance to my left. I find myself looking straight into the eyes of the executioner. It’s a woman. Her hand is resting on the lever. But it’s her face, which I notice. I shiver. I can’t let go of her stare. Something about her pulls me in. I see a vicious smile lingering on her lips. And then I realize. She’s my clone. She looks healthy and beautiful and happy like the rest of them. But she has my face. My nose, my ears, my lips and my chin. My eyes. It is the strangest thing in the world. Looking into my own eyes, seeing nothing but pure evil. EVIL! EVIL! EVIL! I see her pull the lever.