Ahmad Al Charif

This article is the final part of a collaboration project between myself and Kendall F. Person. My contribution is in blue.

image courtesy of http://ageoflucidity.info

Why is it, that people react the way they do, in the face of hardship?

What is it exactly, that makes them seek the comfort and ease of handing it all over to someone else, rather than deal with it on their own terms, and do it right? Not that there is anything wrong in seeking counsel, but in the end nobody will bear the consequences of your actions but yourself, and as such the decision should be yours, and yours alone.

As people, we have learned throughout our lives, that there is always an expert at something, who will know how to do certain things better than we ever will. Who has the capability, and the mental capacity to excel, where we can only fail.

But that is simply not true. It cant be. I refuse that notion in its entirety.

You are who you are, because of the choices you make, and the path you walk. You are no more the man you were 10 years ago, than the man you will be in another ten. That is the beauty of being a human being, you call the shots. You decide on where you need to go. Because Life, is a continuous work in progress.

Don’t let anyone ever try and convince you otherwise.

Many people sadly choose to give up, and walk away when they should be pushing through, with eyes fixed firmly on the prize. These are talented people, with skills, talent, and beautiful souls.

Yet often people give up. And no matter how they try and explain it, they do so because it is the easy way out. They simply had enough.

Don’t do it. It will be the worst decision you ever make in your life, and all the suffering and fatigue you felt while fighting for your dreams, will be minor tinglings, compared to the agony of your soul bursting to tears in mourning of a lost purpose.

Don’t do it.

Because no matter who you are, where you come from, what struggles invade your peace of mind: know that you can prevail. That you can grasp your destiny firmly with your own two hands, and steer your life in a completely different direction.

The depths of crazy you find yourself immersed in today, can be tomorrow’s faint and distant memory. All you have to do, is believe.

Pick yourself up. Gather the pieces. Seek help when needed. But believe in yourself, and feel your energy drive you towards a future you were conditioned to no longer believe possible. Physical & mental illness, social standing, wealth, and all such things are mere hurdles you are meant to overcome. Not impenetrable walls.

Pick yourself up, one more time. For There is nothing more powerful in this world, than a relentless soul, knocking tirelessly on destiny’s door, refusing to take no for an answer…

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We must, I believe,
start teaching our children
the sanity of nonviolence
much earlier.
– Alice Walker, Author of The Color Purple
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Sadako Yamamura by Hoangvanvan

“What is it?” asked the Pastor, with his wife right by his side.
“The Muslims are here!” screamed John Peters, trying not to, but trembling in fear.
“I have invited them here, to share in our place of worship.” responded the Pastor, remaining calm. “They are good people, just like you, John. They are in need of a place to worship and we have plenty of room.” Not finding comfort in the Pastor’s soothing voice and paying no attention to the fact, he was in a spiritual place, John instead took over the leadership role and begin to yell instructions, sending the mass hysteria through the roof. He turned to the panic-struck congregation, that had run inside of the church, completely baffled, but fully consumed in the insanity, that had overtaken the day. “Rip up the pews and start blockading the doors. If any of you are carrying your guns, prepare to defend your families and your nation!”

The Pastor let go of his wife’s hand and stepped down from the platform, reaching out to each indiviual man. He walked through the crowd, holding onto his composure, but he could convince no one, not even himself.  Men, women and children alike, began to pull up the pews and carry them toward the entrances, prohibiting anyone from entering, but without thinking, trapping themselves inside the building, a house of worship no longer.

Robin looked on in horror as her mother ran toward the wedding parties, howling as if she had gone mad. Her younger brother Jimmy, for the first time in a long while, begin to move and exit from the car. Robert raced to Maxine’s wrecked auto. Displaying a faux appearance of worry, he however, was relieved, that his secret could not be told. He pulled open the car door, a few parishioners also running to lend a hand, but when he finally got it open, he discovered poor Maxine Bouvie, his mistress, had died upon impact. Losing control of his emotions, they let go all at once. Screaming toward the heavens, “Oh, my God! What have I done?”

The beauty of the day, both the weather and the fact that gays were now free to marry, had enveloped the wedding parties of Sheila & June and Frank & Brady. This was the happiest day of their lives. Surrounded by their loved ones and soon to be blessed by their pastor in their house of worship, how could they ask for more. They saw the crazy lady heading their way. It took only a moment for it to register, that she was coming after them. Each had endured their share of taunting and pain. Frank and Brady had been assaulted so many times, that neither could keep count. Sheila and June never stood face to face with real hate, but it did not matter. The movement had come too far for them to bow out like cowards. So they faced one another, knowing what had to be done, whispered I loved you, then turned toward Maxine Long, deciding this was their hill to die on, and prepared to throw down.

Refugees from a long drawn out war in their place of birth, they migrated to North America, relocated by the government to a small town along the shores of magnificent Lake Superior. Their numbers were few and although it stood against their beliefs, the newly arrived Muslims had decided against wearing their traditional garb, in an effort to prevent altercations, so they would not stand out. Since the Pastor had been so welcoming, they were caught off guard in the melee, but they were use to running back home, no strangers to the jaws of hate.  But they did not comprehend, that in part, the anger was directed at them. So the leader of the close-knit group, directed them around the chaos, summoning them toward the closed doors of their new mosque, and without knowing, directly into the gates of hell.

Traumatized by the consistent and brutal bullying by the Pritchard boys, not understanding his own sexuality but hating himself, none the less, for according to his mother – it was a choice of his own making. His young mind would be unable to handle the onslaught and on that Sunday morning, in the midst of chaos, something inside his mind simply snapped. Young Jimmy, now suffering from Cotard delusion, a mental disorder, that made him truly believe that he now lived only among the dead. Hearing Robert scream, “She’s dead. Oh, my God, what have I done?” forced him out of his self-induced coma, and he begin to move like a zombie, walking as if he were in a trance, making his way toward the wrecked car, to be with the actual dead.

The Muslim congregation stood upon the entry to their new house of worship and started knocking on the door. The children began to cry, the women attempted to comfort them, but the unraveling madness had seeped into their pores, until they would finally crack.  The men pounded harder and shouted louder, “Let us in! We are in danger out here!” Inside, the congregants had taken up position. The women and children stayed with the men, vowing that they all would go down fighting until the very end. The pastor, realizing all was lost, turned and looked at his wife, nodded his head and she nodded back. He thought the  good Lord wanted him to  accept all of mankind. He opened his doors to those people, and look at what it wrought. Mistaking the previous night’s lightning as a sign of the armaggedon, the pastor and his wife, were determined to undertake God’s mission.

The Pritchard boys were in the late arriving crowd, masters of insanity, so rather than be repulsed, they believed they had arrived in paradise. One of them noticed Jimmy walking toward the car. The other saw the gay men trying to break up the fight, and noticed Sheila and June, getting the best of Maxine Long. They assumed Jimmy was with the gay wedding party, but really it did not matter, they would beat him, until they beat the sinful nature, right out of the sodomite. Willie huffed toward Jimmy and Johnathan stormed toward Frank and Brady, determined to rid the land, of the sinners and their sinful nature. Parishioners from all walks of life began to take sides. Some joined the Muslims in beating on the door. Others jumped into the fray, and threw punches, without even knowing, what they were throwing them for. Robin stood in total disbelief. Her town had gone crazy, leaving her all alone to drown in sanity.

John led the charge, breaking out a window with the blunt end of his gun. He fired the first shot at close range, snuffing out the life of the spiritual leader of the Muslims, who was in fact, a good man. The other men inside the church followed suit. Glass shattering, gunshots penetrating, sanity vanishing. Outside, pandemonium would erupt. The Muslim congregants dragged their wounded and dead from the battlefield. Inside, the pastor’s wife had disappeared through the same door of which she came. Her husband looked toward the heavens, heart, soul and mind no longer at war, he closed his eyes, clasped his hands together and said a silent prayer. …Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

The smell of the fumes was immediate and intense. Below the sanctuary, the pastor and his wife had set up a virtual maze of tanks, all of which were filled with gas. The first lady of the house of worship had already opened the valve to half of the tanks and when her husband arrived, he aided her in opening up the rest. The fighting outside intensified and the marksmen took up target practice spreading carnage far and wide. The small town along the shores of one of the world’s natural wonders, had reached the depths of crazy and insanity would at last prevail. The pastor gazed into the loving eyes of his bride, then pulled the matches from his side. He handed her the box, she took it from his hand and held it way up high. And before sanity could return and give peace another try, the pastor and his wife, would bid Sunday goodbye, and without further adieu, he would strike the match, that would ignite the fire.

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Copyright
All rights reserved,
Kendall F. Person © (August 2012 – present)
Ahmad Al Charif © (June 2012 – Present)