I followed my friends. My newly sworn friends.
Into the dark we went. They had promised me bitches and lots of alcohol. Sex, drugs and good music.
White candles burnt everywhere. It smelled like a church. I wasn't sure where I was. Not a church I hoped. All I wanted was to get my rocks off and enjoy this Christmas away from home. I wanted to remember my first time away in a different kind of way.
The music rumbled away from us in such a strange way. We were following a party that was going away. Dying Away.
My phone began ringing, Someone was calling me. My ring tone was "La Mantra Mori" by Ghost. The song gave our journey a special feeling and it blended with our pace perfectly, so I did not pick up.
"We Focus On Your Death
We Focus On Your Death
You Share Not The Blood of Our-our-ours
Thus We Focus On Your Death"
Warm and velvety were the walls that chocked us while we walked.
The calling on my cellphone died away eventually, And the sense of belonging dissipated too. We drank and smoke. People around seemed happy. They seemed as if they were getting ready for a massive party.
We were too dumb to run. To dead to die. And as they tied me up to a stake, I sighed.
This was never my world, I thought. As they cut my clothes open. This is it, I said to my self.
I am broken and bleeding.
And then my blood dripped down and splashed frenetically on the stone floor. I pissed myself,
A last, a moment of joy before dying, I Thought.
Dick Pound
26.12.2014
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