"I will go to paradise" he thought. Sitting there with the gun in his pocket in the jeep. He was waiting. "When do they come?" his friend asked. "4:30" he said keeping his mind focused on the task he had been given. "I will go to paradise and I will be under the feet of the almighty. I will be freed from my sins since I am doing this for him." he thought. "but....".
He had long stopped listening to the tiny squeeky voice inside his head. Whenever he was on a mission dictated to him by god, the voice was there. A voice at a pitch slightly higher than his voice. The voice always questioned him. It always started with a but. He had learnt to control it. He was taught to not listen to the voice. "It is the devil" they told him when he was all but 14. "If you listen to the voice, you will be condemned for all eternity to hell. you will be burning in brimstone. You will know only pain and suffering". His tiny mind was acting on its instincts. It trusted the bigger man and took him for granted. He learnt to not trust the voice. He learnt to not trust himself.
The task at hand confused him but he dared not question the intentions of god and those who entrusted him with the task. He was but chosen, he was but blessed. How can he be confused? He kept reminding it to himself. He also became aware that the voice was becoming louder. "But..".
His thought shifted, his focus waned as a flood of memories rushed. Aisha, his little sister, playing with a ragged doll. She seemed very happy and without a care in the world. The moment she was born, he knew it was his mission to care for her and protect her. Her smile evoked the deepest feelings of tenderness in him. He sat beside her for hours answering all her curious questions, watching her jump from one object of interest to another. He felt his heart light with love when thinking about how she used to wait for him everyday near the door of their beautiful home. He saw her bloom into a beautiful flower in front of his eyes. He showered her with gifts when he himself dressed like a pauper. "STOP" she used to scream. "Dont keep doing this. Please listen to me" she said. He never did. He missed her. Sadly the unrelenting train of thought, mercilessly lead him through the course of events. It did not spare him and be satisfied with just the happy days in his life. His eyes darkened. His heart grew heavy like a cloth filled with tears. A rage grew in his heart, burning fiery blue, consuming his blood for fuel. He remembered the drones.
"She will be avenged. They will pay." he thought. His friend suddenly called out to him, shaking him out of the haze. "Here they come, be ready quick". He felt he had the vision of an eagle. He felt nothing in the world would stop him. They ambushed the school van. "Come Out" he commanded. A train of little girls came out, crying in fear. He had his gun out and pointed at them. "They are small kids. Do not harm them" the school van driver pleaded. He knew whom he had to shoot, he knew who was conspiring with the enemy, he knew who is going to bring him closer to god. He aimed the gun for her neck. All of a sudden there was a high pitched scream from inside him. "STOP", He could recoginse it. "Dont keep doing this. Please listen to me" it pleaded. He heard a soulful cry, his ears shattered, breathing stopped and brains burned. Tears rained from his eyes uncontrollably. "I will listen to you my dear sister. I will always listen to you." He pointed the gun to his head. The cry seized to be heard to him anymore. He felt nothing of the pain or the agony. It did not feel like burning in brimstone. He felt peace as his body fell. His head never hit the ground. He felt joy. He felt Aisha's lap.