Cold blue red

The dream is but a mysterious thing I must say. It sends you down a vortex of confusion, and you fall trap for something you avoided. It forces you to believe and accept. It makes you face the harshest of truth and the slightest of future. Again you wake up to a new day, I like to call it a new start. Things go back to normal.

I sitting in this dark, dim-lit attic, reflecting on myself. There I see a small window through which comes my companion moon, though he leaves me with darkness and thoughts to ponder with. In the attic, I have got something I needed to survive, ink, paper, and a small candle, though the candle was not necessary for I believe to see a lot and the hidden one needs to see some less, my friend moon betrayed me. I have lit the candle, I burnt my hand and it is bleeding, I can’t go out of the hideout but I not fear about me but my last masterpiece, before they catch me. I am no Romeo who fled after a mad love, nor am I any petty thief intoxicating himself from the sickly scent of lavender, I am but a person of words, I use words to weave a delicate cloth. But life has thrown me at the face of a vortex that is questioning me about my existence. A vortex of confusion and is slowly destroying my self-confidence. That is hurting me more than a blow of that knife received from the incident. i will tell you about it if i live on but not if i die of exsanguination or transport to some other darker place towards the end of the vortex. The attic though is unhealthy and claustrophobic, anybody would leave it in any minute for the dreadful smell and for the dust and the beings that crawl on it, these spider webs, and here anybody could be scared to point of fainting or things going black in front of them, or maybe the world spindling like a spinning ball. Though all that i took upon myself added the pain of bleeding, the mental satisfaction of this haven is more than the physical torment to me.

I put myself on trial and i don’t know clearly if i did wrong, but somewhere it is hard to believe it. I am Andrich Miller. I am 21 years old. I am studying law and order at the moment. i write because i feel that my public figure and true self are 2 different things, after all hardships and all those cruel words by Fernand, and the beating of Sir Dorald Piel, after these problems I faced, I came back to writing, I wrote about all these,I hunter them numerous times through words and feeled some peace and solace, then I imagined the world against them. My shuttle poems and cruel words they did not understand. All they could was to steal my diaries and burn them away, and bury them out.

In the meanwhile, on the roads I can see men of blue all around. Oh my, on one hand cops are searching me on the other I am getting hungry. Infront my window is the cold night, on the window pane a bird sings a cold song, I feel so cold and the fire that is burning is not that warm and yet that urge in me to write and the pain inflicted by life is still hot.

I when wrote about killing them, a different me manifested within me as I was changed. I laughed hysterically and cried painfully. Slowly and slowly I went to sleep. They drove me crazy. Everyday my grudge against me that I can see and nobody else was eating me, as I was none other than the stoical boy. Then one day the crime took place infront of me, I was strong enough to fight. I saw Fernand buy what I disgraced as drugs. My evidence and audio and photo proofs, package samples, lab tests and testimonials all were proved against Fernand, Fernand was sentenced for imprisonment for 6 months. I while fighting the case received 40 voice mails, 35 letters and 5 stones all with a warning not to do so. Soon my fire in me was buring like a silent river. I turned all powerful. I had made friends with a police man, he was a honest man and as much I knew him he would had never lied until a strong purpose stroke. I started to spread hands over not only the person who sold drugs but they who were drug dealers. Soon their illegal activities were exposed. My heart sang all songs of joy, until one day just after all evidence, suspects and witnesses were handed over to the court, the big disaster that took away all from me happened. A car with all documents and 2 witnesses with my friend, was shot and they all died in that accident, the documents though were never found. I knew that I had a copy of the documents, the ones submitted back at court were also lost. I was so afraid that I knew I was the last that I did not come out, I started to lose control on my self. I left home. I travelled 100s of miles away. It was a time before I returned, the quite 6 months, after 6 months, Fernand was still the same, he now used to stalk me, whenever found me alone beat me, he used to be stoned, I suffered a lot until one day, I turned back to find him no where.

Then an amazing challenging mystery came to me. I was to investigate a suicide which appeared murder. The girl who attempted suicide was Yulie. After hard research on Yulie, we found out from social media activities and friends and neighbours that she could not have done suicide, it was homicide. On the scene were with me 2 daring devils, I call them so because they were like humanly incarnations of the devil, mr. Hikkins and miss Berny. They were so sly and witty yet made silly mistakes, but the trio of us were able to trace the murderer, it was her own sister, actually the boy Lila loved, was loved by Yulie, and the world was in Yulie’s favour but then Lila when understood all that was going on, revenge, envy and anger, formed a clot in her conscience, she gave her a drink that pull Yulie into deep slumber in which she hanged her out from the tree, we tracked her down but she escaped, I remember that chase we made on bikes and cars. I was very disappointed when she escaped. Then she sent me a message, were it was clear that she wanted to settle the unfinished business of chopping me into pieces. And then there were again activity of Fernand.

And then this dream that seems never ending and is going on and one I can’t wake up from took place. I was walking through a narrow lane with houses on either sides, and then a turn and a pond and a huge filed on one side. I sick and tired of all that happened, sat on the field, when at a distance I had seen Fernand approaching me, and every step he took was my heart racing. I kept on running again and again. He then caught a girl by her collar and I saw him do the same things he used to do with me. I picked up an iron crowbar from nearby, my heart was pounding at a high rate, I held it tight and walking slowly I smashed it against his head and murdered him in cold blood, I then threw the crowbar away and ran away to the police station. On the way I met with the drug dealers I caught and they ran behind me with knifes so very shiny and then the girl with a gun. All the fears of mine as if you put all the worse into a small Max Planck constant size of box then imagine my status. I felt so conned and deceived added I had murdered a person good or bad in cold blood. My feets were turning ice cold and my head was turning hot. I ran away to the place of murder, I held his hand and fell over his broad chest of his stolid body, crying, and calling him out to wake up. I stomped away in fear. I then came over to kill a drug dealer and then the girl as they appeared near me, but there broad scary grin even after the strokes and those holocaust void sunken eyes, I felt like spinning about and falling, I shouted and screamed, I felt that I was the one at bad, I with blood in my hands were not getting removed, I was completely shattered and broken, the third one stabbed me in the leg and escaped. I though had all the prove in world to justify me was afraid. My spine as if was absent. My self-confidence was diminished. My pride was destroyed. I just killed 3 people, with right to self defence. I still could not just justify. I was shifting my mind. Ones I laughed, and once cried. Sometimes I shouted and at other times I dived deep into myself. I reflected on mirror, but it was so dirty, I cleaned it till it was shining in moon light yet me appeared unclear and unclean. It was all so misty a night, the moon was Cresent. I felt the absence of mind and as if I was unconscious. Later on I sat down to study all that happened because somewhere I knew that all this was a dream because I can never murder someone, I was so fragile at the moment like the glass jar I broke and shattered to pieces from anger and I had cut my finger. I knew one trait, how to be anonymous, secret and sly. I went into incognito phase, as if an undercover agent or someone in ghost mode. Catching me was impossible that time and I searched for different articles and papers and cctv footages, through all that time I used a powerful mobile and a proper internet I got due to the kindness of one of my clients whom I saved from a grave situation, though he believes he still has some more help to offer me, I beleive I don’t think so, I have had enough from him.

From this very attic, and this very corner where I got to knows about time from the melting of wax, I found out information about Fernand and Lila and all the drug dealers. I compiled and prepared a document and with all those old proofs and new proofs, I sent these to the central justice. Then I started to see different things that triggered a strong sense of suspense and fear and confusion in me. I don’t know how to put it toghether like a jumbled block puzzle. My mind like pickle and heavy like a big metal ball already. I found out that Lila and Fernand and those 2 drug dealers died way before I killed them. The day we were chasing Lila she was caught after sending me that Terrific message and died in an untimely encounter, Fernand died the day he stopped stalking me but he reappeared and those 2 drug dealers died way before the drug dealer Maiko trial in court. But something that pricks me more is that I felt Fernand that day, his calm and all silent body was cold, and I saw Lila take her last breath infront of me and that drug dealer stabbed me in the leg. I then found some cctv footages, I saw myself resisting to air and beating the invisible. I also saw i beating myself. I saw it all. I never murdered anyone but that devil in me made me feel like that, he manipulated the human out of me and hurt me, filthy beast, out of me, it made me bad and deceptive and skeptical. I felt so guilty, it drove me mad, I still felt that blood rolling down these hands and that cold body.

Oh these cold winds and this cold sleep I feel to sleep. After such research and work and this bitter truth, my eyes strained and demanded rest like beggars for alms, and then when I closed them I slept in my sleep, to face something new, but this was all so blue and black, all so frozen and uncanny and my dream was so blue that I thought it as the best moment to slay the beast, out came the beast within and I fought with it till the end until it fell infront of my burning fire, but soon it extinguish and lost to blood and I am now nothing but sleeping peacefully, no Fernand, no Lila, no drug dealers, no guilt, no broad grins, no gazing eyes, no false lies, and no regrets, I still can only hear the bird sing. The bird sings me to ….