Jealousy

Jealousy

As I gaze upon the Iron Maiden and her Prince, I am taken with their beauty and overcome with an envy of the charmed life they lead. She with her flowing blond hair and glittering eyes, looking out over us with a graciousness she surely doesn’t feel. At least he is honest, with his look of contempt.

There they stand among riches and splendor while we, their captive subjects, pray for a reprieve from the onslaught of illness and poverty. We are forced to bow before them and Kiss the ground upon which they tread. They watch us, a Third Eye Blind to our needs and our despair.

Later that night, as I prepare a meal of beans and bread for my family, I am taken with the need to Rage Against the Machine. I long to cause them pain and suffering and make them beg for mercy, as we Village People are so often forced to do.

I shall bear Guns and Roses next time we gather before them. As I lay the roses by their feet, I will draw the gun and shatter the illusion that they are beyond mere mortals. Or shall I humbly offer a fine confection laced with Poison and watch as they gag and writhe with life’s last breath?

It is with these images, I fall soundly asleep. I dream of the murders with piercing detail. I am in Nirvana as I fill with pleasure at the idea of their fall. I wake with a smile as the sun warms my face. I look to my left at my beautiful son, so peaceful and content. I wonder how he will fare with his mother’s deed. Will he be shamed for all time and treated like a Foreigner in his own land? Will he succumb to pressures and commit Suicide to end his disgrace? Or will he be proud that his mother stood against the tyranny and died in infamy?

As I ponder these questions, I am startled by a commotion outside. I run to the door and find the village in mass hysteria. As I raise my eyes to the magnificent castle atop the mountain, I am amazed by the site of crumbling rock. The Rolling Stones are cascading into the sea. What is left is a heap of destruction, a site that shamefully brings joy to my heart.

I cannot believe my good fortune. An explosion has destroyed the palace and all of its riches and royalty. The people are cheering in the streets, running up the mountain to claim a piece of gold or rare jewel that has been strewn about. It is then that I see her. Everything But the Girl has been destroyed. She begins to descend the hill with a look of shock distorting her beautiful face.

As she nears my humble abode, I realize that The Clash of classes has ended and I open my door to my Twisted Sister and take her into my arms.

(499 Word Count)