My Eternal Soul

“Come here, little brother,” I sat next to him looking up at his eyes. His eyes showed that he was always in thought. Joey had dreams of changing the world, and he has. He’s twenty-one and he’s the president of a Youth Reach program. He teaches kids various life changing lessons and how to keep out of trouble and make the best of themselves. “Has Mom and Dad told you the news yet?”

My eyes dropped. I overheard him and my parents arguing. He was a journalist as a career and a photographer in his spare time. He was the perfect older brother. Cool, laid back, inspiring and successful. I have never heard my parents and them arguing. It was always me who talked back to our elders. I was a mischievous kid, I always had always been jealous of his perfection. He told me that he’s still reaching for perfection but he was perfect through my eyes. They argued about my brother’s recent impulsive decision to become a journalist in the war. He wanted to photograph the war overseas and show the world its ugly head. My parents were protective and refused to let him go. Any journalists who venture out there never make it back. Ninety percent of the journalists die within the first forty-eight hours of their time there. Journalistsbecame the primary target of the enemy. They did not want the world to be exposed to the inhuman warfare happening there. Some even claimed conspiracies that state that our own soldiers are the ones shooting these brave journalists. My brother had always been stubborn. A week later, he was on his way to the warzone. That was the last time I had heard from him though he had promised me to call on my birthday.

I opened my eyes and exited the flashbacks. I was sitting in a room with a therapist in front of me.

“What happened to your brother?” she asked. I grew silent and my eyes dropped. I answered regardless. In a quiet voice, I informed her that Joey had died.

“It took me a couple of weeks to realize it.” I felt like I was being interrogated, the room did not provide enough light for me to see her face.

“When did he die?”

“November 24th, 2008. He arrived there November 22nd.”

“Two days, more than most journalists who went decided to record the events in warzone.”

“He still died!” I raised my voice, even through the darkness I could sense her signalling me to calm down.

“I know, how did you handle the news?”

“Like I said, it took me a couple of days to realize that he’s gone.”

“And when you did?”

“I joined the army. Became a sniper, you’ve seen my record.” It was required by law that I see a therapist, to make sure that I am still mentally intact after partaking in the horrifying war.

“Yes, it’s quite impressive. Joined right on your eighteenth birthday. Only half a year of military training, four months of guerrilla warfare, switched into a sniper program for your remarkable steady hands and patience. Over three hundred killed by your hands, you took part in important missions in winning the war, even infiltrated their ranks and assassinated their leader and leaving without the war without a scratch.”

“It’s nothing to be proud of.”

“Indeed, but that is why we are here.”

“To make sure that I don’t crack and start killing everyone.”

“That’s one way of putting it. It also says you were awarded by the president with an award that boasts you are the greatest asset in winning the war?”

“I infiltrated the enemies’ ranks; stole their plans, anything and everything connected to their military, our government had a copy of it. I became their leader’s most trusted bodyguard, and I killed him myself.”

“But I thought you were a sniper.”

“For the first two years that I joined.”

“Then in the last six months, you were undercover? How brave of you.”

I scoffed at my therapist. What fuelled my bravery was revenge for the innocent blood they have spilled. I couldn’t care less about the awards and the medals, as long as I was the one to murder my brother’s murderer.

She asked me my purpose in joining the army. I knew she knew it was because of my brother. Revenge was how they pulled in most of their soldiers. I felt another flashback coming to life.

Two days after my brother had left; our whole family was on edge. We were praying that we would never hear our family member’s name mentioned on the news as they report of another journalist slaying. Not a moment went by that there wasn’t a radio turned on or a television tuned into the news. Then one fateful twenty-fifth, it happened. The media calls it the most horrifying event ever to be seen by the world. The enemy had hacked into every television and radio station in our country. They all played the same thing. The scene started out with a journalist being beaten. Then a man came up to the camera and claimed he is the leader of our enemy. Then after saying how we are to lose the war because they are superior and they are armed without mercy. He picked up the journalist who was in the background and shot him right between the eyes. The tape was dated on the twenty-fourth of November. There was nothing we could do. We were too horrified to close the television. We were all in a state of shock especially because it was my brother that was made an example of. That’s when I snapped. Made it my mission to take revenge. I would not stand idly by and have my hero be made an example. I was ready to defend his honour and everything he stood for. Worst of all, they played it on my birthday. I ran to the outpost in our city and signed up. I insisted they let me start right away and when I told them that it was my brother who was murdered across the globe they called for the commanding general. The general saw the anger and hate in my eyes and agreed to my request.

“Looking back on it,” I couldn’t help but feel the same anger I felt back then, “My anger and need for revenge is what kept me alive. I’ve been shot once and the doctors said it would be fatal. I was sniped but I shot back at my shooter, right between the eyes. He shot right through my wall. The doctor said the bullet just missed my heart but I bled too much and was going to die.”

“Yes, it mentions that here too. What a miracle don’t you agree?”

“Miracles are not for murderers. By then, I killed over two hundred people already and not all of those kills where by sniper.”

“How do you know that you were over two hundred?”

“I was a sniper for two years, but I was also a part of the guerilla night raids. We would burn down villages and cities and I would count every single body that fell motionless because of my action. I could still see the tears in their eyes as they begged for mercy.”

“And you shot them because you were ordered to?”

“No, because I hated them all. I didn’t care if they were innocent. My hate raged in me.”

“Are you still hateful?”

“How can I not? They globalized my brother’s death. It’s only been a year since the war ended. The memories are still fresh.”

“There have been a lot of conspiracies running around even after the war, which one speaks the truth?”

“About how our country murdered their entire army personnel, hunted them down like game. The government paid us a hundred for every soldier we killed. It was called Operation Genocide, and with the help of their military database, we knew their whole personnel. We would kill the target, and take his fingerprint signed in his own blood as proof of their death. We murdered over eight thousand people in that operation. Eight thousand people who thought the war was over, who surrendered willingly and hid for their lives. We found them, all of them.”

“They would’ve done the same if they won, probably worse.”

“We’ll never know. The entire world knows we are monsters, our government did not give mercy and we all deserve to burn in hell. My brother would be ashamed of me.”

“You did as you were told.”

“Regardless, I became what he stood against. He would never look at me again.”

“You’re Catholic, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’ll see him in the afterlife.”

“No, I’ll be in hell. He’ll be looking down on me, crying. Everyone who partook in that operation is going to die.”

“That’s just crazy talk.”

“Really? Tell me, how many of the twenty four people that were enlisted to carry out that operation are alive?” She did not reply. “I’m the last one left. Everyone else died and their murderer always committed suicide to avoid interrogation, because we would’ve torn them apart. They’re taking revenge back for what we did. And there’s only one more left.”

“You’re hiding in the most secure place in the world. There is no way anyone can get you here. There is only one door, the windows are ten inches thick of bulletproof glass and there is only one key in the whole world that opens up the lock in your reinforced door. If this location was hit by a bomb, your room would be the only one still intact.” Her voice signified that she was becoming annoyed with my realistic mindset.

“Do you not see? I am not safe anywhere. I am to die because God knows the evil I have done and He is going to right my wrongs. Justice will be served. I’ve accepted the fact that I am going to die. I will not live to see my twenty fourth birthday. It’s just a matter of time.”

“Why do you have little faith in your fellow soldiers?”

“Because nothing stands in the way of revenge. That’s how I survived. Do you know who shot my brother?”

“Their leader.”

“Exactly, I killed their leader. No one knew who he was until he made that appearance. The person who died before me was our president’s body guard. That means they could’ve killed the president if they wanted to. We are dealing with a powerful group. Whoever is leading this vendetta against me and my twenty three dead comrades knew us personally.”

She got up, indicating our time was up. I think she had become less and less patient with me. But she knew I spoke the truth. I was not safe anywhere. They relocated me to this base in order for them to catch the last assassin before he commits suicide in hopes of ending this group who had proved themselves to be powerful.

Later that night, I sat on my bed. I felt my death coming so sleep was not an option. The lights turned suddenly shut down, the whole building went nocturnal. I heard bodies dropping outside my door then a beep, indicating someone used the only key to open the door. The heavy door slowly opened and a man in our uniform was standing before me. He closed the door behind him. He looked at me and I knew what was to happen next. Another flashback came to life. I recognized his face. He spoke to me, claiming he was the son of the leader. Then it all came together. How my comrades and I were found so easily. He was my partner when I was undercover. It all made sense; he was a spy working under my country’s enemy. He was assigned as my partner because he defected from the enemy. He was right there when I shot his father exactly like how my brother was shot. It happened when the leader’s mansion was being raided by my allies. The leader, my partner and I hid in the secure room underneath the mansion. I shot the leader without hesitation. I didn’t want him to beg for his life because my partner had been there. If I was alone with him, I would’ve made him beg for death. My partner testified to my government that I was the one who shot the leader. When their leader’s death was made public, their army began to crumble. After the war, my partner was given a life in my country, as the promise to anyone who defects to the other side. I thought that would be the last time I see him. Then after Operation Genocide, he became the leader in protecting those who were a part of that operation.

He closed the door behind me; I made no attempt in saving myself.

“You act like your comrades did.”

“You mean our comrades, and it is because we deserve to die.”

“Then you are not so heartless after all. I always thought you were demons sent from hell.”

“The other twenty three are already there.”

“And you will join them soon enough. Tell me, why do you not save yourself? You have a gun right next to you.”

“Because killing myself is taking the coward’s way out. Revenge is more than enough reason for a mortal to defy the laws of nature.”

“You killed my father before my eyes.”

“You’re father killed my brother and televised it to the world.”

“I guess we’ll be dining in hell from here now own.” He aimed his gun at me.

“Revenge only leads to more revenge.”

“No, I made sure that this war ends with the two of us. There will be no one left to hold a grudge when we die.”

“Why must you kill yourself after?” He smiled, and chuckled. I realized the stupidity of my question. The most secure place in the world, I thought to myself, “But why make the others kill themselves?”

“They took on the task gladly. After what your government did to my country, they wanted revenge. They knew that they would not survive torture and took the easy way out. At least this way, revenge is cut before it is to grow.”

“And you being here is a testimony to the growth in revenge. It was inevitable.”

“Like how I knew my father’s death would be inevitable. I saw it in your eyes when I infiltrated your army and was assigned to be your partner.” The lights came back on. Someone began pounding at my door.

“I congratulate you, this whole operation of yours was brilliantly planned and executed.” I smiled and looked outside the window for one last time.

“May God have mercy on your soul.”

“And on yours.” I replied.