(Viewpoint: Chetan)
The sand still retains the heat. Beneath my heels, it sinks slowly, like a memory that refuses to disappear.
I close my eyes.
The sound of falling water is steady. Peaceful.
And that bothers me.
Because it's calm… I've never known it like this.
The smell comes back first.
Not the kind caused by salt. Not the kind caused by humid air.
Another one. Heavier.
Iron. Rust. Blood.
My fingers tighten slightly in the sand.
The sound of the waterfall gradually fades away. Replaced.
With shouts.
The light disappears, everything becomes black, and a grey and sad landscape rises before me.
The atmosphere becomes thin. Dirty. Grey.
The sky no longer exists. Just a heavy mass above us. Crushing.
The pit.
The ground is hard. Cold. Uneven.
I get up and walk.
Non.
I'm dragging myself along.
My feet are bare. Damaged and swollen. Every step tears something away.
Around me, silhouettes. Bent. Dirty. Some move slightly, still showing signs of life.
Others, no, were carried away.
They were the ones we were looking for, we emptied their pockets and took what they were hiding, that was the most important thing because…
Nobody is looking at anybody.
To look is to provoke. And provocation inevitably leads to combat.
And fighting... It kills.
But they needed to eat.
A body.
Just a few steps away.
Lying down. Eyes open. Staring.
Nobody stops.
Me neither.
But my gaze lingers on it for a second too long.
Error.
A movement.
I don't have time to think.
My body acts by reflex.
I duck and roll. Something slices through the air just above me.
A metallic shard and the wall collapses.
I immediately straighten up, grab my blade and strike.
Direct.
Without thinking.
My fingers find a throat. I squeeze.
Strong and plant my piece of iron.
The other struggles. His nails scratch my skin. I feel the heat of blood. I don't know if it's his or mine.
I tighten it further.
Until it stops.
Silence.
No.
Not really.
There are always noises. Footsteps. Breaths. Falls.
Around me… vultures are circling.
He remains motionless, crouching above us.
My hands are trembling slightly.
No fear.
D'effort.
I look at the body beneath me; it is no longer moving.
I'm letting him go.
Slowly.
My fingers trail along his body, then my gaze finds him.
Something is sticking out of his jacket.
A bag.
Little.
I grabbed it and started running, as far as I could.
I examined the bag from every angle,
Food, not much, but enough.
My eyes remain fixed on it.
I don't even swallow my saliva.
I feel nothing.
No joy.
No shame in it.
Just…
A calculation.
How long ?
A day ?
Two ?
Time doesn't matter here.
It stretches. It repeats.
An eternal night, and the best days are those slightly gray.
But that doesn't change anything.
Because down below…
Everything is always the same.
I finally calmed down, sitting on the floor with my back against a cold wall.
The bag is placed between my legs.
I pick something at random and start eating, slowly, very slowly, so that it lasts.
Other figures appear around me.
You can never have peace and quiet
Some of them are looking at me.
Not for long.
Just enough to understand.
One of them approaches.
Too close.
I look up.
Our eyes meet.
Just a moment.
Then he steps back.
Without a word.
He understood.
I lower my eyes to my hands.
Sales.
Cracked.
Red.
I don't remember how long they've been like this.
Have they ever been clean?
BUIIIIIIIIIKKIIIIIIIIIIP!!!
A noise.
Distant.
Different.
Not like the others.
Not a cry. Not a struggle.
A shock.
Then another one.
Regular.
Heavy.
This is the first time I've heard it.
The figures around me freeze and others overtake us at full speed.
I get up.
Without thinking.
I want to see.
I run and follow the whole crowd
A capsule.
Narrow.
Blanche .
The light.
Not a dim light.
Not a dirty light.
A real one.
Claire.
Blanche.
Pure
I'm stopping.
My eyes are stinging.
I squint.
But I don't look away.
Silhouettes appear in the light.
Angels
They go down.
Without hesitation.
Without fear.
The others advance, all tightly packed, impossible to move forward but something tightens in my chest.
No pain.
Not really.
More…
A tension.
A strange feeling…
The sound of the waterfall returns.
Brutal.
It was as if someone had pulled me out of the water.
I open my eyes again.
The sky is there.
Blue, clean.
I feel paralyzed.
My hands are still in the sand.
But I sense something else.
Pressure.
Lightweight.
Against my arm.
Eugene.
His breathing is slow.
Calm.
Regular.
I turn my head slightly.
Just enough to see it.
Her eyes are closed.
My hand moves slightly.
Almost without me deciding it.
She stops a few centimeters from him.
Then stay there.
Suspended.
In the pit…
I really thought they were angels.
The wind passes lightly, carrying the scent of salt.
I clench my jaw slightly.
– every day I fear waking up and seeing this lifeless grey sky again, this world is so unreal
I let my hand fall back into the sand.