I don’t know why I’m writing this. Maybe it’s for closure, maybe it’s to leave it all in my past.
Maybe it’s to take my armour off for the last time. To leave my knife behind with all the pain and darkness.
The following is a dream I had in October, 2013
Just a normal day
It started like any other day. I was walking along the spaza shops in the street, when I saw a ten Rand note burning on the ground, the smell of a burning building looming in the air.
The national reserve bank burned down. All money became useless. Riots started and the country I loved crumbled. I returned home finding my house ransacked. Scavenging among the remains I found my survival satchel and a war hammer I had made with my own two hands. I joined my family outside. My sister wasn’t there. I didn’t know where she was, I only knew she was safe.
We traveled on foot, to where we didn’t know. When we came to a bridge over the local highway, we saw a large group of people, about a thousand strong, walking south. A passer by told us that it was the group calling themselves Israel, and that they were following their faith’s exodus. It sounded so wrong. As family we were cautious of them, but we were sure to travel alongside the group, trailing in the distance
One day I was scavenging the bushes for tinder to make fire, when I heard a crash and gunfire. I will never know why, but I ran towards the noise. I came to a road where a large suv had been overturned onto it’s side. I saw two men in suits firing at bandits who probably planted the mine that flipped the car. I took my hammer and hit the one bandit over his arms, breaking his arms and rifle. Another came at me with a knife, I hit him with the pommel against the head. The last bandit turned his rifle to me. Sparks flew when the suited man opened fire, some of the bullets hitting the bandit’s rifle. I charged and hit the bandit square on the head with the hammer.
The guards then aimed their submachine guns at me. “IDENTIFY YOURSELF!” The one barked. I slung my hammer over my shoulder, held my hands in the air and said “I’m here to help. Are you guys ok?” A well dressed man with a beard appeared from behind the car, holding his hands in the air the way a priest would at a church.
“My friend, thank you for fighting for us! May I invite you to fight alongside us the next time too? I am the leader of Israel. We can take good care of you, and your family.”
I immediately felt suspicious of him, but I knew that we needed the help. I joined the group, with the agreement that they will take care of me and my family, and in return I would fight for them.
Reasons to stay
The leader was a questionable man at best, but he knew how to read people. He knew that he would have to give me reasons to stay. He arranged that I receive a glock 23, the handgun I was used to, as well as the best combat knife they could find. During the next week I guarded the leader, becoming known for combat. The “touch of death” the leader called it. Needing only one shot to stop attackers, and all who faced my knife lost. I gained favour amongst the people too. My reputation for giving advice grew rapidly. They called me “angel of Israel”
The (still nameless) leader realised that he had to keep me. So he arranged that I be married to a woman who was part of the group, knowing that I would take her in as my own, and stay.
At first I was totally against the idea. I was lonesome, but she had to choose me out of her own free will. So I asked the leader to keep his decision a secret, and had a lieutenant spread rumours that I liked the woman the leader picked.
Her name was Amy. She came to the group as an orphan. She was seven years younger than me. We had much the same interests. She liked knives and was fond of rough hobbies. She had blonde hair and green eyes. The rumor soon reached her, and one night at a group gathering I made my move. I knew how to approach her, I knew how to make her fall in love with me. A trick like that had a catch though; the love one sparks is real…in her heart and mine too.
It worked flawlessly. She would sleep next to me every night, huddled up close to me. She was so scared of being close, yet I tried to hold her tight, hoping that her pieces would melt back together. When her birthday came up, she told me of a bracelet one of the merchants was selling. I did not earn money for my work, so I instead made her a fine chine from wire.
The chain was beautiful. The night I gave it to her she cried, she said it was the only thing she ever truly owned. She worried that I would not be able to convince the leader to marry us, not knowing that he gave her to me long ago. I never told her the truth. I never remember being intimate with her in the dream, but after a time went by, she fell pregnant. During birth both she and the baby died. Her last words were “Thank you, but this was only borrowed” she handed me the chain I made her, and soon thereafter blew out her last breath. I kept the chain in my satchel, as it would always be at my side.
The loss devastated me. The leader feared losing me, so he called me in. I came into his tent, and saw his table covered in weapons. He motioned toward the table and said “You can have anything you want, and after you picked, we’ll discuss your salary”. I chose a KPOS frame for the gun I already had. Thereafter the leader told me that he would pay me for training an army for him. I accpeted.
I trained an army, it was all I had. I would spend my days preparing soldiers or fighting bloody battles. My soul felt tired, I never felt part of the group. I only felt part of the army that fought alongside me.
Then one day the announcement came. We would be traveling to Cape Town where a boat would take us away from this fallen nation. Days and nights we would work tirelessly to prepare for the journey. My army grew so strong that I was tasked to travel between the groups and make sure all was running smoothly. It was a great distraction from my loss. It was a long and hard journey, and upon arriving we found that the ship had already left without us.
Nobody knew what to do.
Then word came of a rescue mission that would land at the northen border of the country. A small group, lead by the leader himself, fought open a path north, with Israel trailing behind us.
Upon arrival, we saw several large cargo aeroplanes land. An army of soldiers swarmed from them, surrounded us and ordered us to put our weapons down. We did so, but I kept my hammer, refusing to give it up. The rescuers were to scared of me to insist, so they let me keep it as long as I helped them keep the peace.
The rescue was lead by a man and his daughter. The rescue took a few days because of the people arriving after us. During that time I helped out where I could. I caught the daughter’s eye, as she noticed that I was a warrior. Her name was Melissa, an attractive woman with a very light skin, long brown hair, and brown eyes. At first she was shy to talk to me, but our conversations grew longer and more meaningful over time. She introduced me to her dad, who promptly appointed me to help get the people out of the country.
Upon flying away with the aid group, the father decided to let me move in with his family. It was a huge adjustment for me. Food and water was plentiful, and it took weeks for them to convince me not to wear my weapons in the house. My satchel always stood by my room’s door.
One day I walked in on Melissa going through my satchel. The chain I made for Amy around her neck. She got a fright and immediately started apologising. I understood her curiosity. I told her that the chain suits her, and that she could keep it, as long as she knew it’s story. I told her about Amy and what happened. She thanked me for sharing, and said that she will take good care of the chain.
A few days later the father took me to the local sherrif’s office to find out about the legality of the weapons I had brought with me. The officer took a look at everything on the table. The war torn frame of the gun and the knife with scratches everywhere on the blade. He turned to the hammer, and upon closer inspection was horrified to find blood and a bit of hair still stuck to one of the claws. The officer looked at me, turned to the father and said “He must have been through hell. These things came with him, how can I take that away from him?”. He turned to me, looked me in the eyes and said “All these are legal to own. Keep out of trouble and I see no problem. The hammer though… you can keep it on one condition. You fix it to a wall somewhere, and as long as it never comes off you can keep it.”
We fixed the hammer to the staircase wall, in a way that we could see it every time one comes in the front door. Days blurred into weeks as love blossomed between me and Melissa. The dream ends as I walk in the door, seeing the hammer and knowing that I had come through darkness to be in the light, and that this is where I always want to be.
Some may wonder why I shared this. Most of you will never believe the next parragraphs that you will read. A mind is like a parachute, it works best when open…
October 2013 Things finally fell apart in my family. My mother and father separated emotionally, but stayed together, causing chaos and conflict to ensue. November 2013 I went to an interview and got an unpaid job at a workshop with a questionable but loving boss. January 2014 I met a blonde girl with green eyes, Amanda. Her nickname is Amy, and she likes knives. Her father abandoned her and her mother is bipolar. I made her fall in love with me. I made her a chain, and she cried when I gave it to her. I truly loved her. In April she left me, hurting me the way she wanted to hurt her dad. She gave me my chain back, telling me it was only borrowed. Shortly after the break up I started getting paid for my job at the workshop. I joined a group that does historic sword combat too. That September my workshop participated in the Sasol Solar challenge, an endurance race to Capetown. I had caught on about the similarities of my dream, and tried to break the pattern by travelling back with different people. The head of the group turned out to be just as questionable. Breaking that pattern cost me though. Upon returning home, no “rescue” happened.
May 2015 I was practicing with the sword group, when one of the members brought his sister along. I caught her eye. She has long brown hair, brown eyes, and a beautiful light skintone. The next two months she came along regularly, mainly to get to know me better. In July we started seeing each other privately, and our friendship soon grew to more. She was fascinated by my ability to make chain mail, and loved the chain I made for Amanda. October 2015 I went to talk to her father about going out with her (going steady). He said that he is fine with that as long as I stay out of trouble, as he knows about my fighting skills.
Right now I am happy as I can be, but I am struggling to leave the past behind.
Make of this what you want. Maybe it is ramblings of a broken mind, maybe it was divine intervention. Maybe I was shown my path.
Maybe its just a work of fiction.
Its all up to you