7 Minutes Long

The longest 7 minutes in his life.

He simply didn’t know what was true.

One Minute

He looked outside the window. A heavy rain poured against a blurry window..

There’s nothing outside. He could not hear a thing unless the rain. But behind his back, he knew that his angry father was having a war with his clumsy mother.

Things broken around him. This 7 years old boy didn’t really care because the fight had become a routine.

A very ordinary day.

The boy was still looking outside the window. The heavy rain was slowing down when he caught something with his tiny black eyes.

There was a little girl running around with her pink umbrella facing the sky. She looked really happy. A woman, seemed like her mother, was smiling not far from her.

The boy didn’t smile, neither he laughed.

A ceramic plate landed on his mother face.

Two minutes

It was a sunny afternoon. He walked through a very long alley not far from his foster parent’s house.

He hoped the alley was a little bit longer so he could spend his time there thinking that it’s a magical alley which leaded him to a very wondrous old castle.

But reality hit him back in his chest. There’s no such thing as a magical alley.

He walked through the afternoon with a burden in his chest. He did something wrong. Really wrong.

Wrongfully wrong.

The alley was not magical. It didn’t lead him to a wondrous old castle filled with ogres, giants, or fairies. It did lead him to his new house. But it seemed different.

The yard was not as green as it always seemed. It was filled with red and blue light. Ah, there’s two cops standing in front of his foster parent house, talking to the sad couple near the main gate. They looked at him. He smirked.

Three minutes

Every night he wished and prayed to God that He would always watch his father.

Not because he loved him, but because he hated him. He hoped God would take care of his father soul so he would not touch him again.

This was the night before he started praying. His mother left. His father was totally devastated. That moment he realized there was no such thing as love in this world.

Four Minutes

The party last night was mesmerized by many of them as one of the best party ever held by freshman like him.

Instead of remembering the music, the people, the drinks, the boy remembered only one thing: the drugs.

The pains he felt was reliefed and he was in a state of the happiest man on Earth. He saw a unicorn and an alley to a magical castle.

The drugs were not the only one. He enjoyed slicing his skins.

The days passed by as if he did not think about everything. His glasses askew touching the floor. Needles and pipes lying beside his head.

The room was very tiny. Filled with to many junks he didn’t expect we would have. Marilyn Monroe’s posters hanging around the walls. The bed was not covered. This was his friend bedroom. Placed in the basement of the worst building in town. He would not mind as it was his only place he could go to freely. Arman was his only friend in college. The most fucked up smarty mathematician student whom he remembered as the only person who wanted to talk to him in classes. Two years gone by since their first encounter.

Arman was his unrequited love.

Five minutes

He did not get through the college. One part in his life, he thought that he would leave everything bad inside of him. He went through shits he must through in order to get to this government’s scholarship. At first he enjoyed being a college student. New places, new atmosphere. New him.

Too bad reality hit him back like a brick broke his friends head many years before. He did not fated to be a successful person. Arman might use some drugs, but he used it responsibly. Unlike him, he was trapped. In debts, in crimes. This was the moment of his life where he realized dealing with a drug dealer was not a smart choice.

“Paid your debts, asshole!” screamed a big tall man in front of him. He pointed a gun to his only forehead. “Or I’ll kill you!” as he unlocked the gun.

He trembled. “C-can.. you g-give me another time?” he asked poorly.

“What time? No other time! You already have it!” said the man in a louder voice. The tip of the gun hit his forehead. He felt a very cold sensation as the metal forcefully touched him.

A back door of a black van behind the man was opened. Two men jumped into the street with someone he afraid he knew. Arman. His head covered with something like a floor sack. His two hands was bind tightly. He could not speak, he just screamed. But nothing came out of his mouth. Something muted him.

Everything happened really fast. He even could not remember much. One thing he knew, blood came out of Arman’s back head as a bullet cracked into his skull. He cried that day. The only tears he ever shed was flown that evening.

Six minutes

He once lived with his mother. After running away from his father, his solely mother came back at midnight. A truck was waiting outside the house as a middle age woman walked him trough the stairs quietly. He was at his teenage years. He was supposed to masturbate that midnight. But something was thrown to his room window. His long missed mother.

Everything was going to be okay. His mother, a newly wed, was now with a wise man. He worked at a bank, she worked at a bar. They were expected to have a baby. He’s going to have a brother. Wonderful!

The dinner was nice. Small, but okay. The night was really quite. Not even a single bird made sounds outside. As he tried to finish a chicken, his father stormed into the house. Holding a very long gun, he shot the man who was his step father a moment ago. He dead. His mother screamed loudly, shook her head and protected her belly. But everything she did, did not stop her from being shot. She was thrown to the kitchen’s wall. She lied dead.

He did remember that he picked a knife, run to his father, and stubbed him in his chest. The first blood he ever felt flowing through his bare hands.

Seven minutes

The rain was very heavy. Poured against his windows. He suddenly remembered a moment like this. Years ago when he was a little boy. A memory that took him back to his parent. Years ago he killed him. For what he did, He was in jail for a very short term. They said he was still a teenager and he defended himself.

He made into a foster home. To a very kind foster parent. He went to a very nice school filled with a lot of friends. But he did wrong once again.

Arman was dead too. The third blood he ever saw. Minutes after he lied on the streets, seconds before the one who killed Arman tended to kill him too, a patrol police came to them. It’s quite different with the police who came to fetched him in his foster parent house. This time, he came to save him.

But everything was still the same for him. Worse.

Everything was finished. He shut the door, he picked Arman’s gun and he shot himself in the head. He lied there. The fourth blood was his own blood. He could still see. Something he read said that 7 minutes before you die you would remember every memories in your life in a flashback. A seven minutes flashback.

He remembered looking outside the window to a little girl with a pink umbrella running around happily even the rain was very heavy.

Everything flashed back in 7 minutes.

7 minutes long.

And everything went dark.