writing "the last children of god"

Writing dark and forever terrible things one can easily say is just me. But for “THE LAST CHILDREN OF GOD” its coming into being took a slightly different path. I had stopped smoking weed and rediscovered how much smoking before before sleep gave me a night of peaceful dreamings. My dreams a ridiculously vivid. They are reoccurring and i remember them in great detail after. Some nights i feel like i haven’t been sleeping at all, just living my other life. In my youth this cause me much concern bordering on a total break from reality, because i was having trouble telling the difference. Things like thinking i did something i did only in a dream for example. I’m far more disciplined of mind now but i truly do sleep better with a bit of help. But i didn’t go back to smoking , sleeping pills or xanax. I’m just gonna rough it. In those first couple of weeks my dreams were a series of violent actions and nightmare ish imagery. I wrote notes on some of the ones i could remember best. I wondered if i could string it all together into some kind of story. Well there you go. My id released from sedation frothing up this year’s tale.

It began as a dream like all dreams do with memories. Lukas was at the party of his friends, Genniva and Arash. An informal gathering though most guests were decked in their best. A private party in the island home of two of the more wealthy of Grecians. No paparazzi for miles but there was one photographer, Lukas. His photos have adorned the covers of Life, National Geographic, and Time. And before he could make his exit, his host Arash shoves a camera into his hand. Just a few he says please, and how can anyone resist such a gracious host. But leaving the party takes a much darker turn. Instead of the reality, which was Lukas taking a chopper and then a plane to his home in South Africa, in the dream he walks. Down the road some to no particular place. He passes a lamb. Just standing by the side of the road. Stoic and still it was even though it was being consumed by flies. Covered the poor creature was by green bottle flies. Only its small feet and sad head were left molested. Lukas continued on. Past the mangy wild dog tied to a tree. Rabid and so diseased that it hardly looked much like a dog at all. Lukas could not tell what breed. But thankfully it was tied up and easily avoided. And its demon like offspring crawled quickly away and hid behind the tree.Feeling uneasy and disturbed Lucas ever shifted in the chair of the plane, but to no avail. This dream was in full swing of its esoteric nightmare. Unable to wake up Lukas walks on. On and on till he finds himself on a moving road. Where the ground is covered with ants. A massive river of them and he has no choice but to walk on. The ants a being preyed upon by large centipedes, nearly a foot long they are. They slither across the innumerable hoard ever devouring as the go. But the ants don’t bother Lukas. They scurry away from under his feet. If he walks slowly enough he finds that he harms none. And the earth starts to shake and then buckle. The dream is over. The plane carrying him home is in trouble. Lukas awakes into the real world. Lukas awakes to find that his plane won’t be reaching its destination. The plane is going down and going down fast. And when it crashed, the passenger end slid along the jungle floor well enough, but Lukas could see the cockpit bounce away. And when he finally comes to, he discovers that he is completely unhurt. But that could not be said of the dozen others that found all manner of deaths save one. He was badly hurt and had this to impart this to Lukas. That he should leave him. He is too injured to go anywhere, his legs were crushed. The only thing he will be walking to is death. But more importantly, it was no accident that the plane went down. It was shot down and those who did that will be coming to inspect their handy work. Lukas is not in friendly territory. He reluctantly agrees and leaves the dying man. Looking back some distance away, he can see some armed men come upon the wreckage. They shoot the man left behind.Running in state of amazing fright, Lukas did not stop till his body could carry him no longer. He falls and passes out in the comfort of the wild grasslands. He wakes to the gentle voice of Zeb. Come he says, it is not safe for you here. Snipers patrol the area and pick off the escapees just for fun. Luckily there are no such monsters lurking in the bush today. Lukas follows Zeb and the hundreds of others headed to the relative safety of the farmlands, which by now is become more of a city. A city of refugees from the mad warlord known as Bablo. And yet they still have hope. That is why Zeb refers to them as the last children of God. What this part of the world was called before no longer matters. This is Bablo’s country now and he has named it for himself, Bablo’s Island. Though it makes as little sense as anything a madman does for these lands are not an island. But even here hiding among the refugees Lukas is still not safe. Sure he could change his designer clothes and look more like the natives here, but their pidgin French combined with an unknown African tongue will give him away as soon as he open his mouth. His only respite is to get to the safety of the embassy in the next country over. Zeb shares some of what he has been eating. The rose mallow leaf wrapped around ground beetle grubs with some berry juice for sweetness. Lukas was hungry enough to eat anything, and the dish was tastier than one might think. So he began the next part of his journey.Far away in the capitol, Bablo strikes the former president of this republic with yet another vicious backhand. Bruised head to toe from his beating, the nearly broken man still has defiance in his eyes. Bablo explains that there are two things he needs to do to bring this civil war to a close. The first is to get the current regime to legitimize Bablo’s control over the country. The president swears to die before becoming Bablo’s puppet vice president. A generous offer from Bablo’s point of view. But Bablo has other methods of persuasion. The door to the next room is opened and the president sees his oldest boy. The child is stripped near naked and tied to the wall. He is bleeding from numerous small puncture wounds all about his body, no place too life threatening. the punishment is being delivered by Bablo’s own daughter. The sadistic teenager has been throwing darts at her captive, careful not the strike anywhere too sensitive, but that is about to change now. Bablo gives his child permission to aim for the head, a special present if she can get the boy in the eye. The former president has no recourse but to yield to whatever demands Bablo may ask of him from here on. But even with the president’s compliance there are those would make their stand against the tyrant. Bablo’s men have the capitol well secured and all those who might have opposed him have fled to the farmlands. Once long ago the great river of this country was forked. By damning up one side the people were able to generate electricity for the capitol. And in the process freed up valuable and fertile lands, easily irrigated. These are the farmlands which has now become a second city filled with the dissonant and the dispossessed. The next phase of Bablo’s plan is to blow the damn and wash all the filth away.Lukas has found his way to a group of armed men. Some are UN most are rebels, and there are a few mercenaries who simply came to Africa looking for a fight and a glorious death. They are led by Captain Malin who is going on and on to Lukas about his home town. It’s in Kansas and is nicknamed the Disney world of the Midwest. It’s a carnival town. Rides run year round and the theme of the city changes with the holidays. The whole town goes green for St Patty’s, Zombies wonder the streets for Halloween, and Christmas comes with all the trimmings. Quiet it is now though they have seen plenty of action. There were twice as many when they started. But Bablo’s men had not been spotted anywhere in the farmlands all day. As the sun begins to set it would seem all are in for a quiet evening. They are wrong. It’s the screams that can be heard first. The men go on alert but have no weapon to combat what’s to come. Bablo has blown the damn and the waters are rushing down the path it carved millennia ago. The hardest of the men soil their pants in fright and run even though there is no escaping the deluge. Lukas runs to a tree and using his belt, ties himself to it. When the flood waters hit, he and the tree are being washed away. Lukas has barely avoided drowning and now floats in the rough waters. Soon the old river will join its sister. Lukas intends to ride this into the next country. He thinks to himself. This is such a decimated world. Dark and forever terrible things have fouled this day, but this perditious night I will endure.

June 14 2014

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