Short Stories
Unforgivable
I suppose you could say I was one of the lucky ones. I don't consider that to be true, but it's something I've been told a lot over the years, and you tend to believe something when its said enough times.
To me, the ones that were truly lucky were the ones that didn't have to live on with the knowledge of what we did. They don't have to carry the burden of so many lives lost on their shoulders.
I still have nightmares. 71 years have passed since then and I can still see their faces clear as day, hear their voices as they called out for their mothers - even as they took their last breath. They all called out for their mothers, every single one of them. Didn't matter if they were 18 or well into their forties. I'd have to say that was one of the most disturbing parts of the whole thing.
We were told it was justified. That we were doing 'the right thing'. They convinced us that if we didn't act now, we would live to regret it later. That the threat was just too real to ignore any longer.
It was all a lie. A horrific manipulation of our vulnerabilities. When I look back now, I realise there was no justification for what we did. There can never be. Ending another life is wrong, and should always remain so no matter what. The right to life should be sacred, unconditional, universal.
I'm not a monster, or at least that's what I tell myself every time I wake. I don't even know if I really believe that anymore. I feel like I left a huge part of my soul back in those fields and city streets. Perhaps that's true - perhaps I did. All I know for sure, is the person that left wasn't the same person who came back. I trudge through life now, not living but merely existing. Just the shell of a life that once was. A ghost. I will have to spend the rest of my days knowing I can't take back what I did. The pain, the misery, the suffering I am responsible for.
They were no real threat to us. In fact, quite the opposite. We could have had a vibrant future together. Taught each other so many things.
What we did to the Humans was unforgivable.
To me, the ones that were truly lucky were the ones that didn't have to live on with the knowledge of what we did. They don't have to carry the burden of so many lives lost on their shoulders.
I still have nightmares. 71 years have passed since then and I can still see their faces clear as day, hear their voices as they called out for their mothers - even as they took their last breath. They all called out for their mothers, every single one of them. Didn't matter if they were 18 or well into their forties. I'd have to say that was one of the most disturbing parts of the whole thing.
We were told it was justified. That we were doing 'the right thing'. They convinced us that if we didn't act now, we would live to regret it later. That the threat was just too real to ignore any longer.
It was all a lie. A horrific manipulation of our vulnerabilities. When I look back now, I realise there was no justification for what we did. There can never be. Ending another life is wrong, and should always remain so no matter what. The right to life should be sacred, unconditional, universal.
I'm not a monster, or at least that's what I tell myself every time I wake. I don't even know if I really believe that anymore. I feel like I left a huge part of my soul back in those fields and city streets. Perhaps that's true - perhaps I did. All I know for sure, is the person that left wasn't the same person who came back. I trudge through life now, not living but merely existing. Just the shell of a life that once was. A ghost. I will have to spend the rest of my days knowing I can't take back what I did. The pain, the misery, the suffering I am responsible for.
They were no real threat to us. In fact, quite the opposite. We could have had a vibrant future together. Taught each other so many things.
What we did to the Humans was unforgivable.