Rabia Telli
While passing through the town the other day, I heard that some villagers were talking about an event that was going to happen. I didn’t pay much attention since I was tired and needed to visit my family home. However, on the road, a well-dressed man stopped me, with invitation cards on his hand. “Good afternoon, Miss, please consider attending this event of ours, it will be beautifully arranged indeed!” It said “An Event Involving Mr. Colby”, which was an odd name because it gave me no clue on what was going to happen. That actually aroused my curiosity, and after seeing that the event is scheduled for this evening, I thought I could just stop by to see what’s going to happen.
Well, first of all, my dearest brother; I swear I thought of inviting you, too. I thought it would be fun there. But please, just listen to me first, be patient and you’ll see why I wanted you to keep you out of this.
What a perfect scene that was! When I arrived at the square, it was almost festive; everything looked beautifully jolly. It had to be a wedding, or a party; people seemed to celebrate something. The entrance said, “an event involving Mr. Colby”, and I wanted to find out what he did, or what will happen to him. I sat at one of the tables and met some townies who were as curious as me. Then came the time for drinks. We drank some scotch and enjoyed the warm evening, with the leaves’ and branches’ soothing sound when the summer breeze gently hit them. There was a stage that was more or less twenty inches high, and finally someone went there to give a speech. “Welcome, everyone, to our town’s own event in this beautiful summer evening. This event belongs to all of us, it involves our sound, the soaring powerful sound of us.” Everyone applauded the speaker and thus I did too. “This event will teach all of us a lesson; to never, ever go too far.”
What did that mean now? Colby walked to the stage and I recognized him, he was one of the townies that my mother introduced me when I was a child. It has been 20 years, and I couldn’t believe my eyes how much he has changed. After moving out of town I forgot everyone’s faces but it was surely a face that was very, very tired. But he was smiling. Everyone applauded Colby, so I did too, then came a trolley with a tall wooden post and some ropes besides it.
They set up everything, and then I understood. They were going to hang Colby.
I looked around in fear. I looked at everyone’s faces. All the guests… They weren’t shocked, but I was. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Someone should do something! I wanted someone to revolt and hinder this. But no one did. Then I thought of something. If he didn’t do a really really bad thing, they wouldn’t be hanging him now, would they? Makes sense. Well then, he must have done something cruel. But why are they celebrating it?
As time passed, I got used to the idea that Colby was going to die. Death isn’t inevitable after all. Everyone was chatting with each other while sipping their drinks. There was a very nice music playing in the background and the sound of birds chirping gave me a sense of relief. Such a nice weather to celebrate it with some friends, I thought. Then, Colby was hanged. We applauded and kept on chatting. I had a bad feeling about it, crawling from deep inside me. I was still curious about what on earth Colby did to deserve this. Well, if authorities decided on hanging then there must be a good reason after all. Colby died, with a sad smile on his face. “We presume you this event as a lesson to be learned. From now on, our town will be safe from those who go too far.” they said. Colby was now gone, without any explanation or last words. We kept chatting and drinking till midnight.
When I went home and put my head on the pillow to sleep, I confronted my thoughts. A man died in front of me today and no one cared. On the following days I convinced myself that no matter what I will find the reason why he was hanged. I visited the mayor, asked around, even contacted my friends on the event that I sat at the same table with. They all said that there was no such a thing as “a man getting hanged” on the event. Was it my imagination? I tried to research the name Colby in the library, in the town’s archives. There was indeed a Colby, but as I headed to the mayor’s office to show that, someone yelled behind me; “If you don’t stop asking insane questions, you will be the one who has gone too far!”
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