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Writer's picturelolade Alaka

One Eighty: Part 2

Utopia

It has been a thousand years since the Great War

A thousand years of perfect peace and harmony

A thousand years since the only world we know was physically separated from the ‘outside’

The outside never recovered from the Great War

Thousands of smaller wars have erupted since then

They say a lot of things, the scholars, historians, keepers of the past,

They say we, Utopians, have been fortunate

That it’s not humanly possible for so many different looking and thinking people, black, white, red, to live so peacefully together in an enclosed world

They say our world is too good to be true

They say our world is not real

They come from the outside and they distort everything we know, we believe

They say a war is coming

Either from the outside or within ourselves

They say human nature would corrupt Utopia just as it has corrupted the rest of the world

I don’t know if they are right and I don’t want to think about it, about discord

But it was all Chance could think about

He needed to do something about it

If Utopia had to be involved in the war then he would play his part

Last week, Chance volunteered to serve in the Utopian Peacekeepers Delegation

A division conceived by the council to keep the crisis out of Utopia

He received his conscription almost immediately

Yesterday, he followed his fellow recruits and new superiors aboard a frightfully large jet

I think at that moment he had never looked happier

It was impossible for him to hide his teeth as he moved excitedly with palpable energy

Completely oblivious to my pain

He seemed so happy to leave me

I had never felt heavier seeing him completely overcome with glee

He would be gone six months

One eighty days


I was alone when I met Chance

My parents were alive and I had five siblings

But I was so alone

I was working in a departmental store when I first saw him

He was beautiful and kind looking but I decided to ignore

Five minutes later, an entire heap of canned fish was falling from underneath me and a pair of hands were pulling me out of the line of fire

I dread to imagine all those cans landing on my feet

I felt heavy breathing at the back of my neck and realized I was still held prisoner by two solid arms

I moved out of the shield of flesh so quickly that I fell to my hands and feet

Someone pulled me up again and I felt my embarrassment grow with each breath I took

I heard his voice for the first time from behind me as I moved quickly towards the storeroom

He was calling for me to hold on, to slow down

I couldn’t get out of the room quicker

God alone knew why I was behaving like a fish out of water

But for some reason I was nervous

Ok, well, I was a klutz any given day and it was completely expected for me to tip over a pile of produce

I wondered why I was weirdly shaken by that encounter


By the next week, I had forgotten about the little incident

I was sitting on a bench in the only park in the city

The only place that you could get some peace and quiet, just

It was the only one hour in the day I had to myself after office work and before house work

I was facing the clear glassy duck pond but I had my eyes on the amazingly colorful sunset

This one was special and I had to capture it on paper

The purple, yellow, blue, white and grey colors that all flowed into each other in harmony, ushering away the burnt orange sun

And then the way it all reflected in the tiny pond beneath it

Bending forward over my work, some of my thick brown hair over my face, with the quacking of ducks for background music,

I was awed by the fast strokes of my paint brush as I hurried to capture the scene perfectly

For most artists it was a slow and painstaking process

But for me it was a spiritual happening

Something took over me when I got the inspiration

At one moment, a shadow fell over my easel

I trembled slightly to see the dark silhouette on my paper

I bit my lower lip a little too hard

But I couldn’t stop painting, I couldn’t break transmission

The human outline did not shift, even slightly, it waited patiently till the end

My brush fell to the ground at the last stroke

And as I looked at the picture, I knew nothing needed to be added, it was perfect!

The sky view was in my paper.

And still the shadow hadn’t moved

And then I heard his voice

He told me what I already knew

That the painting was a miracle

I looked at him and registered the same awe I knew was written on my face too

I smiled at him

He walked me home that night because he wouldn’t hear of me walking back alone in the dark


That feels like a lifetime ago

Chance wanted to help people, to save people, to protect them

He wanted his life to have some deep meaning

He dreamed of it

At heart, he was a fighter, a defender

He loved the take-care-of role

With the talk of coming chaos in Utopia taking flight, it didn’t take long for his protect-the-people instinct to kick in

To him, he had to have an active part in the cause

That was the only way he could truly help,

Join the army

The entire idea, logic, theory made no sense to me

All of this “peacekeeping” would not bring peace!

They will not really protect the people

Utopia has never experienced war and I don’t know what it will be like but I know it would destroy everything

Sometimes, in the dead of the night, when all is silent, loud explosions could only just be heard and gentle vibrations felt from whatever ominous thing was occurring on the outside

And sometimes, I could just make out human screams

or maybe I just imagined them

I think about how life is out there, how people live there,

Why they couldn’t join us and live here where it is safe and peaceful

But now we join them in dispute and discord

Every single citizen of Utopia would be dragged into this dreadful event, consciously or unconsciously

I can feel our lives changing irrevocably

We would never know this peace again, I know

And I am afraid

Soldiers die

They are always the first to go

They fought and sacrificed their lives for the “greater good”,

For the country

For the vague nation of Utopia which somehow never really included the singular people

And after war, there is never peace, there is just destruction

I think I am a pacifist

I do not NO cannot understand why the world hasn’t learnt from the patterns of the past

And now everything I know and love has been plunged into this meaningless protracted war that might never end

Nobody remembers why it started.

As I watched the enormous craft lift into the sky, I couldn’t help feeling sick to my stomach

I could have stopped him

I knew I had the power to

I could have asked him, told him how I felt about him leaving

About the whole idea of the peace keeping mission

How all my “excitement” was fake

I could have told him

He would have changed his mind

But how could I have?

He thinks this is his destiny!

I love him and I don’t want him having regrets because of me

How could I ask him not to do this if he believed this was his life's mission?!

He might have agreed to stay because of me

But he would have grown bitter hanging around in the country when the idea of fighting for the safety of the people had already stoked a fire in him

I would be quenching that fire

And he would never thank me for it

He would eventually blame me for keeping him from what could have been

I can't handle him hating me

And he would

Not at first

It would be a slow and painful process

And I would never be able to live with myself

Still, now he's gone and I cannot imagine how I will live with myself


Last night, I couldn't sleep

The night before that, I couldn't sleep

But at least the bed was soft and warm

And our quaint, square, wood logged room was not quiet

Chance couldn't sleep too

But for a completely different reason from mine

He was bubbling with uninhibited mirth

He was sitting up on the bed, his back resting on the headboard

Outlining the itinerary for the six months he will spend with the delegation

It occurred to me that Utopia has never had an army, how can they know what they are doing?

I had not noticed that tears had started streaming unchecked down my cheeks until he asked me why I was crying

I looked at him, he was truly confused

That was my first show of anything besides happiness and approval

I didn't wipe the tears from my face, no

I let them fall freely

Because what I wanted so desperately to say, I couldn't

I stared at him and his gentle, kind eyes filled with concern for me, called out to me

I leaned up to pull his face to mine

His lips to mine

The gentle kiss was reassuring

I felt like I could absorb his strength and make it mine

We didn't talk more that night but we said everything we needed to say to each other

And the next morning I escorted him to his fate


Watch out for Part 3 next Sunday.

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