I slipped out of the helicopter into the vivid blue sky. I took one last glimpse at the man who had killed my wife and child, the man that I was supposed to kill. Then he was above my line of sight. The wind pressed violently against my body as I fell. My shirt was suppressed from wafting by the bulletproof vest strapped to my body. It didn’t manage to preserve my life, not this time. Instead I succumbed to earth’s gravity and let her hug me as tight as she could.
The wind slipped through my hair like a cheetah running through tall grass. I looked up. The black helicopter that was once solid ground was now just a black ball getting smaller and smaller into the sky as my altitude lowered. I inhaled, vacuuming all that I could. The gun smoke, the diesel of the helicopters engine, the scents exploded through my respiratory system like water out of a newly broken dam.
As I continued to lose altitude, the world around me became ironically peaceful and vivid. Many people say that before they die, they “see the light.” But I saw the sun.
My lungs ached at the large volumes of air that were repeatedly forced in and out of them like they were merely a security checkpoint in the world of wind. As I came closer and closer to death, the air that I breathed felt better and better. I noticed the exact moment, the threshold of when there was finally no more engine smog or gun smoke in my biology.
Finally I could inhale with no detectable pollution. Pure freshness. Fresh air, oxygen. The sugar of the gasses.
The vision of the gunner filled my head. I will never forgive myself as I stood there and watched. Just watched as he took them both from me. I could have stopped him. I could have been their hero, but it is all to late now. Now I just circulate air and spy on the earth as we inch closer and closer to our reunion.
I will never see the blue of the ocean or the bright yellow of the sun ever again. As I take my last breath, it is apparent that it will be the last time I ever see the lush green fields of grass, as well.
How much beauty can one earth hold? As buildings on the ground became recognizable, I thought of my family. My wife, the epitome of beauty, my son, better yet. I will join you soon, my loves. So very soon.
Impact.