Wondering Why

March 25, 2010

Who am I? Why am I here?

I was born…. I don’t know. I have no birthday. I have no real name. I have no real home….

I woke up one morning on a farm in a muddle of mud. I was wearing cargo pants and a T-Shirt of some band which I don’t even know. I woke up… and had absolutely no idea who I was or where I was or what I was doing there.

I got up, looked around, curious by the things surrounding me. And I started walking. No particular way. Just walking… along a long stretch of dirt road. But that’s not where the story truly starts. It starts when I was found by the farmer. Of course I had no idea what a farmer was. Or what the car he was driving was. But never-the-less I was accused of trying to steal stock and taken to the Police where I was asked numerous questions. I have no idea why or how but I understood completely what they were saying… and how to say it for myself. I could speak English? How?

They kept me there until the farmers stock was stolen again so I was proved innocent. They let me go. Go where? I had no idea. But I was free apparently. So once again I began walking. And I walked for days on end until I collapsed. I woke up in a bed. I knew what a bed was… I had slept in one in the police station. Turns out the farmer had been driving along the road and had seen me and picked me up. The police had another enquiry and said I was suffering from amnesia. So the farmer offered to let me stay with him for a while, until I got some memory back, working on the farm. He had a daughter around my age. Well… I didn’t actually know my age but she looked around it. So that would mean I was around 13. Years went by, I worked at the farm helping the farmer, and his daughter taught me about the world. I become like a son. Me and Mary even shared birthdays. But I was 15 when this story started… Mary’s father… my father… passed away to cancer. We were left to look after the farm. Not an easy job for 15 year olds, the police wanted to put us into foster care, we wouldn’t have it. We were old enough.

Old enough to look after a farm. Yet I don’t even have a name… so Mary and I chose to decide upon one. Clark. We decided upon it because like Clark Kent I appeared magically on a farm. That night we laid down to just talk about life and plans for the future. Mary wished to become a Zoologist while I had no real plan. I just wanted to know my past… We looked into each others eyes, our heads slowly moving closer, leading into a kiss… then more. The days after that had to possibly be the best days of my life. However short it had been. I didn’t want them to end… They did.
Two weeks following those magical events rustlers set the farm on fire, not only were they going to steal the stock they were going to kill us. As we ran for our lives through the cold windy night, through pitch black and muddy ground, they shot at us. We ran as fast as we could. It didn’t matter. They got her. They shot Mary. They shot her in the back of her heart. She died. I held her in my arms as she died crying. “Sorry.” That’s all she said. “Sorry.” I held her as blood soaked my clothes. I wanted to stay and hold her forever. Tears flew from my eyes as I let out a scream of agony. This hurt me more than getting shot would. And it did. A bullet came flying into my back. I didn’t even care. I wanted to hold on to Mary. But I couldn’t. If I did I’d die. I had to let her body be with the muddy ground. As I ran for my life. My life… My three year life… Who was I? I don’t care. Why am I here? I don’t care. I stopped running. One final breath…. Shot in the neck. I fell slowly to the ground. I turned to have one last look at Mary. I felt the pure agony looking at the men around her corpse. “Put her in the truck.” They said. “We’ll have some fun with her!” I screamed. It was agony worse than a thousand daggers penetrating my body. As a man stood down at me with utter disgust. He raised his gun. Point blank at my face. He pulled the trigger… it all went black.

Mary…..

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