of innocence

The violent habit of those thought innocent, an outbreak so great, so merciless.

You look at him, his jet black pupils staring back at you. His eyes act as windows into his soul. But it makes your own eyes unprotected from him if you did so. But you were not worried, your thought was you were completely safe from him, that he could not have hurt you. So you decided to look through the window, expecting to see something sweet, something pure.

Your eyes bulge, the veins in your eyes popping one by one as you opened the window as you were hit by some foul smell, the smell of rotting garbage and flesh. You tried to close the window but the smell was too strong and you backed away as the window opened itself. Though fear filled you, curiosity was stronger at that moment. With both eyes half opened, you were still hoping, really hoping, that it would still be something sweet, though deep down you already knew.

What was dreaded came as it did. One thing was clear through the window, death reigned supreme. Nothing, there was nothing that lived but worms squirming and moving in and out of large piles of rotting garbage all along an abandoned road. On the abandoned road were abandoned vehicles, some burning, some only being consumed my fire that came down from the red sky. As the blood red moon shone light as far as your eye could see, you saw something approaching you from afar traveling at an amazing speed. Before you noticed it had no form, it entered your eyes and it was its turn to explore.

Your soul saw it inside you, opening the window. You used to compare yourself, thinking what was inside you was worst than them. It jumped through the window and stopped to wonder how you managed to keep yourself this pure, though not completely, still better. Jealousy caused it to rage and fueled by envy it started to destroy what was inside. It grabbed hold of trees and ripped them apart, uprooting them in the process, polluted the rivers killing life and spread noxious gas all around. Almost immediate, your soul fell onto the floor and just squirmed. It burned inside as you were quickly changed, purity torn from you and stitched by corruption, hate, envy and death. Then just before any more damage could be done, it was sucked back out through the window.

His mother smiled at him as she handed him an ice-cream cone. Looking at me with a look of gratitude for looking after him, the mother lead the little child by the hand into their Proton Saga, the child already dirtied his shirt with his ice-cream. His mother placed him in the front seat of the car and gestured to him to wave back at me. He stared out of the window of the car and waved with a smile on his face. And as the car started to move, his smile grew, and by then you could feel no innocence in it, just an empty smile, lifeless and dead.

Children, why are they always thought to be innocent? We were not even born innocent and we expect that when we nurture them in such a corrupted environment they will still possess that small amount of innocence? We can only instill moral values and such things into them, they being taught by us, the corrupted. Innocence is not dependent on age. But up till now, age had managed to place a cloak over itself, covering the fact that innocence no longer exist within.