Life - A Pain Factory

“Don’t, Father… Don’t pull the trigger!” they cried as he sat in his chair, his gun pointed at his temple, sweat pouring down his brow, tears welling up in his bloodshot eyes.

The moment he was born, Charlie was told, he had killed the mother who had engendered him. He was brought up in an orphanage. His father had abandoned his mother and consequently, him as well. Any form of luck seemed to have abandoned him, too. He was weak and reticent as a child. A few fellow orphans took advantage of that and pounded on more misery in his already miserable existence.

Burdensome years dragged on and Charlie was too old to remain in an orphanage. He was left alone to struggle in life. Amidst the poorest of the poor, the most heartless of criminals he lived. It was a putrid society that molded what he was to become. His heart was lost, but he discovered his brains. It is needless to mention how he employed the power of his mind considering the kind of company he kept.

He began as a cheap con and with the passage of time, further polluted his soul with bigger jobs. But, he was never caught for his crimes. At least, he hadn’t yet. He met a young girl whom he fell in love with. She was naïve and his lies led to her requiting affection. Love, whose beautiful face Charlie was seeing for the first time in his life, changed him. He found pleasure in honest labor.

He even went as far as telling his love about his past. She was touched by his honesty and accepted him despite initial shock. He, then, expressed his desire to marry her. She said yes. Susan White was prepared to be with him for the rest of his life, but Good Fortune wasn’t.

They were married, but Misfortune crept in between. Charlie found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was never put behind the bars for his crimes, but even Susan didn’t believe him this time when he said, “I didn’t do it, Susan. I’ve never killed anybody. I thought that at least, you would think I was innocent.”

In prison, he, now, felt like he was back in the orphanage, abandoned by all. Here, too, he was at the mercy of bullying fellow convicts. He was repeated beaten up and bruised. He bled. Susan added salt to his wounds by not visiting him. His heart bled. All hope in him was, now, gone. Painful was his burden of existence.

Five years later, Susan finally visited him.

“I want you to know that your husband is not a murderer, Susan.”
“I don’t want my son to know that his father was a murderer.”
“Did you say…?”

Susan left and never visited again. He was left to imagine the face of his son. Though Susan had left him in the dark, she had given birth to what seemed to be the light in his life. Charlie felt new hope. He continued to endure as time painfully dragged on.

Many years later, Charlie was released. Old and uneducated though he was, someone employed him and paid enough for his survival. He hoped one day to see Susan again and his issue through her. And well, he actually he did.

But, he had to see her on her deathbed. Cancer had consumed most of her. He held her hands in his and said, “Susan, I hope you believe that I’m innocent, now…”

She breathed her last after she said, “When I was young, I was naïve. And, now, I wish I could die believing your words, Charlie…”

Her last words never left him after they hit. He was beyond tears when he put his hands to his face. It felt as though the weight of the world and all its pain were pressing down upon him, forcing him to scream aloud. But, his voice, like everything in his whole voice, had abandoned him. He ran to the drawer, pulled it out and drew the gun. He sat in his chair as his painful past flooded into him urging him to pull that trigger.

He heard screams in the background. “Don’t, Father… Don’t pull the trigger!” they cried as he sat in his chair, his gun pointed at his temple, sweat pouring down his brow, tears welling up in his bloodshot eyes. His son and his wife stared at him, helpless, and in horror.

But, just then, he heard those beautiful sounds – those of young feet shuffling across the room. His eyes led up to the innocent, little face of his grandson, “I believe that you’re innocent, Grand Pa… But, why do you have a gun in your hand?”

He dropped the gun and embraced his grandson. Tears flowed down his cheeks. Happiness flooded him. It was pleasure beyond dreams as he felt the warmth of his grandson’s blood. His blood, he reminded himself. There was someone in his life to live for. And he wasn’t going to abandon him.

Minutes later, Charlie was smiling broadly as his eyes ran over the pictures in the photo album in front of him. Susan, younger than in her deathbed, smiled back at him, reminding him of better moments with her. His son was handsome like his mother and he was married to a beautiful woman. There was so much he had missed in life. He wasn’t going to give up his life and miss any more beautiful moments. Nothing, he felt, was worth giving his life for, now, that he was reunited with his family…

The next day, hearing a gunshot, his son and his wife rushed upstairs. They found him lying in a pool of blood and a clean hole through his head. In the background, the television was blaring, “George W Bush has been re-elected as the President of the United States of America…”