Categories > Original > Drama
What is it about death that strikes fear into the hearts of men? Is it knowing that you end? Is it knowing that everything you left unfinished will stay just that, unfinished? Or could it be that people are afraid of change? Is it that people are so afraid of what may or may not come next, that they fear the very channel to get from here to a possible there. Death can creep up on you, it can come out of nowhere striking at any moment. It is everywhere and nowhere, it's the nightmares that stay in the corners of your eye, never fully visible but you still see them in your peripherals. The scariest thing about death though, is not ending, its knowing if you did life right or not. Did you live it to the fullest, or did you take it for granted. Did you live life like each day...was your last?
7:50 AM, August 9th, 1945
The morning was shattered by the piercing sound of the air raid horns. Everyone scrambled out of their beds, preparing to leave. They were living in dangerous times. There had been rumors. Rumors of an entire city destroyed in seconds. Rumors of thousands upon thousands dying. But they were just that, rumors. Time moved by slowly, people still wondering when the bombs would be dropped. And just like that, forty minutes later, the all clear was given. People returned to their semi-normal lives, living in their semi-normal town. Realizing that the town was not obliterated, the people of this town decided to return to work. It was a port side town, with so many industrialized businesses it was a shock that the town wasn't bigger. With a mere 263,000 people living there, it wasn't quiet qualified to be considered much more than a large town or small city. But it was important. With its many industrial factories, they were able to pump out ships, weapons and other important equipment that would support the war effort. One such factory was run by a man named Tazuna Izumi. He started it at a young age, not expecting it to really go anywhere. And now, fourteen years later Tazuna's factory had become a major help. He used to have his workers build the skeletons to use for boats, but the time for boats was over. He was organizing the building of tanks and jeeps. War had made a business man out of Tazuna. He was well respected by his workers, mostly for the fact that unlike other bosses, Tazuna would get down with them and work his manicured hands to a black and greasy pulp. He would help them and show them that he deserved their respect. And they followed him. He would work late into the night and came in earlier than he should. This was great for the business man Tazuna... but for the family man it had put a strain. His wife was tired of him coming home exhausted late in the night, tired of waking up in the mornings to find the bed empty. His son... well the strain of not having a father figure in his life, one that he could actually look up to other than having just the name, had changed him for worse. But he couldn't think of them, he couldn't think of personal affairs. Not now. Not when the emperor needs as much as possible. He settled down in his office to work.
10:53 AM August 9th, 1945
Tatsuya Izumi shuffled out of the house, his mothers' words ringing in his ears.
"Show respect for your elders, for your father" She shouted.
"Why should I respect someone who is never here? He may be my father by birth, but not by right." He had almost shouted back, but he bit his tongue. He kept quiet. Not for fear of his ancestors, but to keep his mother from being under too much stress. That's all he had been doing for the past couple of months. Since his father had begun working at the factory more and more he had to take responsibility for the family, for his mother. By assuming this role at such a young age, being only 14, he developed thoughts in his head that no teen should be thinking. Thoughts of defying his parents, rebelling against their authority. He wasn't afraid of disrespecting his ancestors, unlike his peers. Him being thrust into a role of responsibility numbed his feelings towards all of the old superstitions that kept kids in line.
"Why the hell should I care what they think?" Tatsuya thought bitterly. "They don't control me, they can't." He walked down the city street, factories and houses built side by side. The town hadn't really been planned; it sort of just sprung up. There were no defined zones of industrial or residential. If you had the land, you could do as you pleased. He walked down this haphazard road. "Its just so stupid... its all stupid" He thought. He tried to remember a time when he was happy with his family, happy to be alive. All he could remember were the countless hours of practicing with his abacus, the many times his father was gone and the expectations he had to live up to. Not a single happy thought could cross his mind.
11:00 AM August 9th, 1945
Arisu Izumi paced around the small room in the wooden house. The walls were paper thin, as was custom in their country. She looked at the clock on the wall.
"He should be here," She thought "Tatsuya is out, and Tazuna is at work as usual. So where the hell is he?" He was the young messenger that worked for Tazuna factories. He also was her lover. When she first married Tazuna so many years ago, she loved him. She loved the idea that he represented, the traditional life and she was honored to be a part of that. But seventeen years later, the marriage had become stagnant. The time spent apart from each other had ruined what little was left. They lived in the same home, but they saw very little of each other. What ever honor that had come with being a house wife to a factory owner was lost. She had become confused, lost and above all else, lonely. She began refusing to go out, preferring the cool darkness of her bedroom. Then, with a knock on the door, he came into her life. Daisuke Nakamura was his name. He was delivering a package for her husband. She invited him in for a cup of tea, and he accepted. They began seeing each other as friends and for several weeks she had brightened up considerably. Then, two weeks ago, they began seeing each other as not only friends. Arisu knew it was wrong, knew she was disrespecting her husband, her elders, her very name. But it felt so right. Arisu wrapped in Daisuke's arms, his lips intertwining with hers, it all felt too surreal and so different. But she loved Tazuna, she couldn't deny that. But remembering Daisuke's embrace, remembering his body near hers, she thought,
"Fuck Tazuna, screw honor and the traditions. Its time to not just be Tazuna's wife, but Arisu."
She stopped pacing the room, shocked at her own brazen words that went against everything that she was raised on.
___________________________________________________________________________
The stage was set. The business man who cared more about his beloved emperor and factory than his own family, the rebellious teenager who could care less about respecting his elders and cannot remember a day he was happy, and finally the adulterous wife who was fed up with her husband, fed up with her way of life, and just fed up. Each one took life with its joys and hardships, for granted.
11:01 AM August 9th, 1945
Tazuna sat in his office, papers cluttering every inch of his desk. It was going to another late night. Tatsuya walked down the road, wondering what was next, wondering if he would ever have that happy moment he longed for. Arisu stopped pacing, the doorknob turning.
11:01 and 43 seconds AM August 9th, 1945
The Bockscar flew away from the city fearing the worst as the bomb, codenamed "The Fat Man Weapon" detonated. The resulting explosion was only rivaled by that of its sister, which had been dropped on Hiroshima only three days before. Spreading from the hypocenter, an invisible barrier blew through Nagasaki. Winds registering 624 mph knocked down the flimsy wooden homes that most of the residents of the city lived in. Temperatures reaching 7000 degrees Fahrenheit obliterated any evidence of human life existing in the city. When it was over, 80,000 of the cities original 263,000 people were killed instantly and another 60,000 were injured. This does not account for the thousands of lives that were lost years after due to radiation poisoning. It was like a graveyard, without a single tombstone standing.
_______________________________________________________________________________
What is it about death that strikes fear into the hearts of men? How can you answer that fully? It was befitting, the end of these three people. Everything they could have done, gone. The business man cremated in his office, the rebellious teen obliterated off the earth while thinking about his future, and the adulterous wife vaporized alongside her lover. All of them afraid to end. But they forgot a major premise behind death. The scariest thing about death is not ending. Its knowing whether you live life right. They forgot to ask themselves, Did I live each day, like it was my last?
7:50 AM, August 9th, 1945
The morning was shattered by the piercing sound of the air raid horns. Everyone scrambled out of their beds, preparing to leave. They were living in dangerous times. There had been rumors. Rumors of an entire city destroyed in seconds. Rumors of thousands upon thousands dying. But they were just that, rumors. Time moved by slowly, people still wondering when the bombs would be dropped. And just like that, forty minutes later, the all clear was given. People returned to their semi-normal lives, living in their semi-normal town. Realizing that the town was not obliterated, the people of this town decided to return to work. It was a port side town, with so many industrialized businesses it was a shock that the town wasn't bigger. With a mere 263,000 people living there, it wasn't quiet qualified to be considered much more than a large town or small city. But it was important. With its many industrial factories, they were able to pump out ships, weapons and other important equipment that would support the war effort. One such factory was run by a man named Tazuna Izumi. He started it at a young age, not expecting it to really go anywhere. And now, fourteen years later Tazuna's factory had become a major help. He used to have his workers build the skeletons to use for boats, but the time for boats was over. He was organizing the building of tanks and jeeps. War had made a business man out of Tazuna. He was well respected by his workers, mostly for the fact that unlike other bosses, Tazuna would get down with them and work his manicured hands to a black and greasy pulp. He would help them and show them that he deserved their respect. And they followed him. He would work late into the night and came in earlier than he should. This was great for the business man Tazuna... but for the family man it had put a strain. His wife was tired of him coming home exhausted late in the night, tired of waking up in the mornings to find the bed empty. His son... well the strain of not having a father figure in his life, one that he could actually look up to other than having just the name, had changed him for worse. But he couldn't think of them, he couldn't think of personal affairs. Not now. Not when the emperor needs as much as possible. He settled down in his office to work.
10:53 AM August 9th, 1945
Tatsuya Izumi shuffled out of the house, his mothers' words ringing in his ears.
"Show respect for your elders, for your father" She shouted.
"Why should I respect someone who is never here? He may be my father by birth, but not by right." He had almost shouted back, but he bit his tongue. He kept quiet. Not for fear of his ancestors, but to keep his mother from being under too much stress. That's all he had been doing for the past couple of months. Since his father had begun working at the factory more and more he had to take responsibility for the family, for his mother. By assuming this role at such a young age, being only 14, he developed thoughts in his head that no teen should be thinking. Thoughts of defying his parents, rebelling against their authority. He wasn't afraid of disrespecting his ancestors, unlike his peers. Him being thrust into a role of responsibility numbed his feelings towards all of the old superstitions that kept kids in line.
"Why the hell should I care what they think?" Tatsuya thought bitterly. "They don't control me, they can't." He walked down the city street, factories and houses built side by side. The town hadn't really been planned; it sort of just sprung up. There were no defined zones of industrial or residential. If you had the land, you could do as you pleased. He walked down this haphazard road. "Its just so stupid... its all stupid" He thought. He tried to remember a time when he was happy with his family, happy to be alive. All he could remember were the countless hours of practicing with his abacus, the many times his father was gone and the expectations he had to live up to. Not a single happy thought could cross his mind.
11:00 AM August 9th, 1945
Arisu Izumi paced around the small room in the wooden house. The walls were paper thin, as was custom in their country. She looked at the clock on the wall.
"He should be here," She thought "Tatsuya is out, and Tazuna is at work as usual. So where the hell is he?" He was the young messenger that worked for Tazuna factories. He also was her lover. When she first married Tazuna so many years ago, she loved him. She loved the idea that he represented, the traditional life and she was honored to be a part of that. But seventeen years later, the marriage had become stagnant. The time spent apart from each other had ruined what little was left. They lived in the same home, but they saw very little of each other. What ever honor that had come with being a house wife to a factory owner was lost. She had become confused, lost and above all else, lonely. She began refusing to go out, preferring the cool darkness of her bedroom. Then, with a knock on the door, he came into her life. Daisuke Nakamura was his name. He was delivering a package for her husband. She invited him in for a cup of tea, and he accepted. They began seeing each other as friends and for several weeks she had brightened up considerably. Then, two weeks ago, they began seeing each other as not only friends. Arisu knew it was wrong, knew she was disrespecting her husband, her elders, her very name. But it felt so right. Arisu wrapped in Daisuke's arms, his lips intertwining with hers, it all felt too surreal and so different. But she loved Tazuna, she couldn't deny that. But remembering Daisuke's embrace, remembering his body near hers, she thought,
"Fuck Tazuna, screw honor and the traditions. Its time to not just be Tazuna's wife, but Arisu."
She stopped pacing the room, shocked at her own brazen words that went against everything that she was raised on.
___________________________________________________________________________
The stage was set. The business man who cared more about his beloved emperor and factory than his own family, the rebellious teenager who could care less about respecting his elders and cannot remember a day he was happy, and finally the adulterous wife who was fed up with her husband, fed up with her way of life, and just fed up. Each one took life with its joys and hardships, for granted.
11:01 AM August 9th, 1945
Tazuna sat in his office, papers cluttering every inch of his desk. It was going to another late night. Tatsuya walked down the road, wondering what was next, wondering if he would ever have that happy moment he longed for. Arisu stopped pacing, the doorknob turning.
11:01 and 43 seconds AM August 9th, 1945
The Bockscar flew away from the city fearing the worst as the bomb, codenamed "The Fat Man Weapon" detonated. The resulting explosion was only rivaled by that of its sister, which had been dropped on Hiroshima only three days before. Spreading from the hypocenter, an invisible barrier blew through Nagasaki. Winds registering 624 mph knocked down the flimsy wooden homes that most of the residents of the city lived in. Temperatures reaching 7000 degrees Fahrenheit obliterated any evidence of human life existing in the city. When it was over, 80,000 of the cities original 263,000 people were killed instantly and another 60,000 were injured. This does not account for the thousands of lives that were lost years after due to radiation poisoning. It was like a graveyard, without a single tombstone standing.
_______________________________________________________________________________
What is it about death that strikes fear into the hearts of men? How can you answer that fully? It was befitting, the end of these three people. Everything they could have done, gone. The business man cremated in his office, the rebellious teen obliterated off the earth while thinking about his future, and the adulterous wife vaporized alongside her lover. All of them afraid to end. But they forgot a major premise behind death. The scariest thing about death is not ending. Its knowing whether you live life right. They forgot to ask themselves, Did I live each day, like it was my last?
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