The Light 3

She thought about her life. She had thought of human beings as weak creatures. She had joined the military. She found freedom there. She killed people whom she thought was evil. She did not even think of them as human beings, but mutants. Whenever she killed someone, she felt the thrill of joy. She had rid the world of another suffering bastard! She took a swig of alcohol. She felt relieved. One day, she killed 20 people. She felt great! She killed these bastards. It was her mission.

She hung mainly around the male soldiers. She felt their equal. With the gun, she felt completely secure. No one could harm her. Then she remembered her father. Her father whipped her back with a three-tailed whip since she was 8 years old. At first, the pain was unbearable. She could barely sleep at night. All night, she would think of ways of hurting her father. Then the next day, the whip would rain down her back once again, over and over again. She would again think of hurting her father somehow. Then after about thirty whippings, there were permanent scars on her back. The scars were as much a part of her as her organs. It was weird, but she felt that the scars were sacred parts of her. Her father stopped whipping her when she turned 13. He never told her why he whipped her.

Now she was here, meditating, feeling the tentacles of her thoughts go down to the deepest parts of her being. Who was she? How could she free herself from the chains of life? Could she feel the consciousness of being a blade of grass or a flower? Could she know the consciousness of a great warlord? Or was she supposed to have compassion for all living things since she had been one of those life forms at one point in Life? Or was the wheel of karma supposed to go on forever, trapping us in Samsara. She could not forgive her father. She could not go on. The only answer was to complete the circle.