To Click or NOT To Click

As you check your mail, you notice a letter that makes you stop in your tracks. You stare at it. "What on the whole holy Earth!" you murmur. You're scared. Your hands shake and your legs feel weak. You might just have collapsed had the old, heritage, jewel-studded sofa not caught you in its arms. The arms which protected you as a baby did so again.

Tentatively, you inch forwards. Don't be a fool. Mail's don't bite, or, at least, you haven't known one to, until, perhaps now. You ponder, 'To click or not to click?' It's difficult, making a choice. It always is, you notice. Choices for what to eat, do, make, ask; the list's endless. You take a deep breath. It's a waste. Your nerves just don't want to calm down.

It's all right. No one can do anything to you. What are you even scared of? Being killed? Murder? Well, God is another Murderer, isn't he? He kills people when they reach old age, doesn't he? Bet you never even thought of that, huh?

Well, back you come from thoughts of church, RIGHT NOW. You snail-slide towards your desk. Your mouth's a dry desert. Then , sudden as a flash, your favorite, 'Norwegian Wood song, by The Beatles, bursts out, full swing.

You remind yourself, 'I don't have a spider in my pocket. Just calm down.' and flick open your glossy, blackberry phone. The name flashing across the screen stills your heart and propels you towards your revolving chair. Gasping for breath, you throw your expensive liberty across the room.

Rats. Mom's gonna kill you for that.

Oh well. It's a shame, but you don't care, you can't. 'There's no putting it off now.' You flip open your Lenovo laptop and, making a sudden resolution, click the message.

It takes time. You're starting to lose your patience and courage. It's ebbing away faster than water from a gushing tap. It's nearly all gone, and you're just contemplating whether this was a mistake and you ought not to delete the mail, when it opens.

The subject holds just one word. REVENGE.

You shudder. Beads of perspiration thread along your shapely half moon brow. You feel the need of an oxygen mask. You search for one in your drawers. Failure.

'Oh no! I used them all up! I must go and buy some immediately.' You try to get up, but your legs don't obey. You have no choice. You turn towards the mail and commence reading.

Wednesday, the D-day for you. You were walking along the river Siene wondering whether the optimists were right. Would Europe ever be able to completely restore what it had lost? You jerk your head. Now wasn't the time to mull over times not-so-long gone. If you wanted to live-on, this deal was the nearest you would come to it.

You gaze straight ahead, not caring what happened to the right or left. Now, you doubt that even if someone was pleading of help from kidnappers, would you have helped.

Astonishingly, your speed fastens from that of a stroll to that of Jesse Owens's sprint. You had spotted your employer.

"Listen carefully," the familiar gruff voice warned, "One mistake and you pay with your life." You just nod. The silence itself is forbidding. You had never even seen this person before today, only heard him over the phone, and that too only for a minute, yesterday.

"It's very important. Keep it safe. It's very important. Keep it safe." you continuously remind yourself. Command yourself is more like it. The death threat hadn't helped.

"Wherever you are, I will hunt you down and kill you, even if it takes me forever."

At the time, you had been too tongue tied to answer, confirming in the affirmative to each instruction. He had pressed a gold-embroidered, red silk pouch into your hands, which held, it seemed, pieces of broken coal. You weren't far, not far at all, however, you noticed that much later.

For now, you just placed the pouch in your inner kashmere coat pocket and continued back home. Upon reaching, you safely placed the pouch in a safe, where it remained until 5 years ago, the year 1950. It had been 12 years. You had kept the bag safe till now, condemning yourself to doom for even thinking of what was inside. Finally, though, your curiosity got the better of you.

You ruffled through the papers lying scattered on your desk, trying to distract yourself; to drive the idea out of your head. Ultimately, being able to hold it back no longer, you rushed towards the safe, slowly extracted the pouch from the black depths, opened it and gasped, blinded. 

Being sorely tempted to become a millionaire and leave the grim past behind doesn't enter who's head? Nobody's. And so it entered yours. The diamonds must be worth billions...trillions!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Nobody in their right mind would throw away something so important, expensive and extraordinary. Nobody, that is, except a few. But to come under the count of those few. Phew. Close, very CLOSE to impossible. However, as was rightly (or wrongly) expressed by Audrey Hepburn, 'Nothing is impossible, the word iself says 'I'm possible'. '

You carefully placed the precious pouch back in and sat down to ruminate. It seemed as though you were 2 personalities, 2 different, opposite people. One said, 'Keep it. Your miserable life will become a thing of the past. No more worries about food, accommodation, job etc. No more looking and accepting just any low-profile job that came in hand. We would be rich beyond our wildest dreams. Don't be a fool by listening to HIM" whereas the other gently opposed and defended, "Randy dear," You twitched. This was too motherly. You growl low, in your throat, but the message is conveyed. "Randy, you may become rich, but you are forgetting the vow you made of being a good citizen. The day you left your bad side behind, got educated, were employed for a worker for one of the top companies of the world and didn't need to worry about money anymore. That vow."

The debate was endless, but, in the end ' "Randy dear" ' won. You get up and edge towards the telephone. You're still having second doubts. However, once you dial 112, there's no turning back. You convey that you have diamonds worth trillions in your home. Without waiting for further explanation, the line is cut and within 15 minutes, you are told to keep your hands behind your head and arrested. The jewels were seized and were taken for inspection.

Meanwhile, you are being questioned in an interrogation room. Where did you find them? Who gave them to you? How long did you have them? All of them and much more were asked. You responded truthfully enough, yet were regarded by a little suspicion due to the black past. You desperately struggled to make them believe you. Success. After a lengthy interrogation of 3 hours, you were exhausted and finally were given a chance to rest.

The police confirmed your estimate about the value of the diamonds and appreciated you for turning in the jewels. Then, back to interrogation, the main question being 'Who gave these to you.' An estimate was being made that the person must be one of a very criminalistic mind and stealthy manner, if he was able to steal such expensive diamonds.

You gave them as much information as you had. The men were just thinking whether you were his accomplice and were not telling the whole truth and whether they should torture you to force out everything, when you, while racking your brains, came across a most valuable and torture-saving piece of selective knowledge, registered subconsciously.

You told them that you had occasionally seen him at the place where you had met, while passing through the spot.They decided that they would stake out at the place for a month or so, and, if, by then, they did not arrest the man, you would be shot. You quakingly agreed. And... the stake out began.

A month passed. Loyd was caught and sentenced for 5 years in prison. The diamonds were deposited in the royal treasury of the Honorable Queen of England, you were given a medal of honor along with a small sum of cash for helping to catch the robber of billions of Euros/Pounds, whichever you choose.

Now, today, this message? It appears that his prison term is over and he knows, despite the police promising that they would not reveal the informer's name to the prisoners, that you were the person who betrayed him. Your mind raced. The death threat rolled at the edge of every thought.

Eventually, you arrived at a solution, which, if didn't end up saving you, would delay death a little. Till now, the Jews had gone in hiding, now Randyll would. You start packing clothes and important papers. 'Tomorrow,' you think, 'Tomorrow, I will go and buy as many oxygen masks, inhalers, medicines and food I can buy. Then, I'll run away to Asia and live as a Britisher in India. The Indians give a certain amount of respect to Britain and no-one will be able to find me.'

Alas, the tomorrow never came. The next day when the milk man came to deliver the milk in the morning, he found no-one answering the door. He rang a number of times,to no avail. Worried, he forced open the front door and rushed like a whirlwind through the house, calling to the master. Soon, he found Randyll lying face down on the living room rug, dried blood on his neck.

You wake to find yourself feeling very light. You get up and stretch. Your body seems unnaturally bendable and flexible. You look down to see that you have no clothes, no body at all! You get up and hurry to the bathroom, only to see nothing in the mirror. You can hear someone calling to you and shout out, "I'm here! What do you want?" However are paid no heed. The bathroom is opened and closed, Johnny doesn't even see you.

You follow him to the living room and would have fallen down had you not been floating. There lay Randyll. Dried blood on his neck. Someone had cut his throat open when he had gotten up at night.

Johnny panicked and called the police. You are unable to understand what has happened!

You can see everyone, hear everyone, smell the stench and reek of the body but couldn't touch/talk to anyone. You passed right through them! You look down and see that you have nothing to keep yourself elevated in the air! Suddenly, it dawns on you. You had read about this many times earlier, in the Holy Bible, GOD BLESS CHRIST Amen. You had read it a lot these past hours. Now knowing who you are, you contentedly turn to witness the unfolding of the drama...