The Curse You Gave Us

A creative piece submitted to The Needle.

As with all pieces in our Creative column, this article does not represent the views of The Needle.

The Curse you gave us, By Morrigan Vandelle

Charlie Kirk died and I smiled.  I watched the video of his death more times than I can count.  I became intimately familiar with the final frames of his public existence.  

> The relaxed posture he had on his stool, his shoulders relaxed but not quite slumped.  

> The practiced expression of sanguine indifference, a mask molded perfectly to his death's head skull.

And then the moment of truth– A new hole, the size of a dime.  

> His hands come up to just below his chest before a spurt of blood reduces his blood pressure so dramatically that he goes into shock.  

> His fingers palsy into his palms like a hamster's paws, and soon the muscles in his abdomen and back can no longer balance his head on his spine.

> He collapses, and each time I watch this I realize I'm holding my breath and so I exhale, a dreamy release.  

The world comes into sharp focus and I am beset by shame and pride and fury and, most of all, sadness.