Niko’s Eye

Chapter 68.

Isis.

In the ten hours I’ve been in bed I must have woken up six times. Not for that long each time, but enough to break my sleep into un-refreshing chunks. With every disturbance there is a new nightmare. I’ve no idea why I experienced a traumatic childhood with my stepmother after my father died. I have no idea why she would want to kill him. And then I have no idea what kind of mother this experience would make me one day. I’ve even forgotten how to pray. And yet Alex prays every day. What have I become? And with my thoughts, my bedroom soon turns to light and my mind is moving faster than a three year old can speak, like it’s stuck on fast forward and the volume is jammed right up. I want to wash my brain in cold water, chill the whole thing right out but I can’t. I want a coffee but the caffeine will put me over the edge. I’m up and out of bed in minutes, half way to the kitchen before I remember breakfast, my cell phone and the love that I have all around me.

Even when I drift off the trauma to my brain is worse than being awake. I see her all over, coming to my bed, hands around my throat to prevent screaming. Often times I can change it to something new, a confusing carousel of people with no good intention, invading my room:Then I’m awake again, breathing hard. How can I drift off to some peacefulslumber when all it does is unlock the doors my demons hide behind? I envy those who sleep with the peace of never harmed children, pure and innocent as they should be. Every night for me is a battle of sleeplessness, a torment that must be endured rather than a rest to be savoured.

"I need to do this Alex. I’ve got to find some form of closure before I embark on this next chapter of my life," Isis said as she eyed the two different coloured vests in her hands, trying to decide on which one to pack into her suitcase. Finally she neatly placed the both of them into the suitcase before walking back to her opened wardrobe.

"When you have felt the difference between a real loving bond and a parasitic clasp, you will always remember and thus be better protected. A real love, a real lover, a true loving bond, will bring you to new strength and inner peace. And I thank you for that. You’ve brought me a peace that I never knew existed. Just yesterday, you were only the guy who bought my way out of a tricky situation with a dress. And today, you’re going to be my husband. But when it comes to my upbringing, this is the woman who raised me. I have to find out why she would hate me so much."

"In every branch of extremism there is a dose of radicalism, perhaps that is why the terms have become confused and conflated; they are, however, opposites. Each group took a step on a path that contains a core truth and then became lost in a maze of fear and paranoia. Each group appears to react to the most extreme elements of others, thus accelerating their descent into extremism and hate. Radicalism is the cure for extremism because it can take each group back to their first step, their radical first step, and show them the right pathways forwards from there, helping them to seek the core truths of society and humanity in soulful and noble ways. When all groups are helped in such a manner they find themselves naturally on the same pathways as one another, united and in agreement. Thus the perfect peace negotiator is a psychologically mature radical who is able to hold fast to love as the supreme first principle. If you want a real shot at healing the world and nations, I’m here. I can do it. Sometimes you need to take a leap of faith, and I pray you take it while there is still a world capable of being saved, capable of establishing a present that has trajectory toward true global peace, social health and sustainability of creation. Okay, fine. Let’s do this. Atleast let me come with you? I can’t let you fly half way across the world on your own. What kind of husband would that make me?"

Isis stopped halfway and turned towards him, a warm expression on her face.

"You look tired babe. Here’s some vodka."

"Wow, Mr born again, thanks," she said dryly, grabbing the bottle from Alejandro.

"There is a tenseness to my muscles that makes me more like a mannequin on this soft mattress than a woman of flesh and bone. I want so much to melt onto the soft foam, wrapped in eider-down, and drift into the world of dreams. Yet my brain is a violent whirl of stupidity, trying to organize the chaos in my life. It seeks to discover a way to control the capriciousness of people, to acquiesce and please them so that our encounters are softer, less draining. Of course the task is pointless, life is far too random for a human brain to take the billions of factors that come together to form just one day for one person. Though my conscious brain knows all this by subconscious remains stubborn in its attempts to protect me, to ensure my survival. Ironic really, what I really need to survive tomorrow is sleep, at lease six hours would be nice. But for that to happen I will have to be out in less than five minutes and not even the double of vodka I just downed can do that. But we’ll see what this trip has to offer."

"Let’s go baby."

Sergio.

Sergio was on his way to Alejandro’s home. His mind was preparing itself for the news that he was about to break to him. The news that concerned Isis more than it concerned Alejandro.

But since they’re about to get married, I guess it concerns him just as much too. I mean...

His train of thought was cut short as his phone rang, causing him to jolt forwards.

Clearing his throat before answering the call, he squinted his eyes at the name that flashed on his screen.

Rãmirez.

He felt his temperature rising as he thought of all the reasons as to why an officer of the law, could be calling him.

What if it’s about Aisha ? I’d rather not pick it up.

He let the phone ring continuously, making his conscience weary.

In those days of the slow burning war, the one waged on all of humanity, they sought to overrun our emotional drivers with stories that tugged at the heart strings and yet also invoked fear. The heart was their hook and the fear was the line tied to a concrete weight. Our response was simple yet effective, "Focus only on the money trail, follow it as a faithful dog," and it led us to those who were the evil puppeteers, the demons of the death and c*****e we see around the globe among all of our international kin. In truth, there is only good, noble dark and evil... and in the end, that was the real fight, one without any frontiers. The good and the noble dark were everywhere, so were the evil, but the evil were perhaps four percent of the global population, so... once we got that straight, with a united "good" and "noble dark" we saw friends everywhere and peace was a slam dunk. But now it’s different.

The brain uses the same apparatus for love and hate; have you ever noticed how romantic love often becomes hate when a relationship ends? That’s why. This conversion of love to hate is used in propaganda too. It stirs up strong love for children, family, community and country - then weaponizes it - love becomes hate as the "enemy" are shown to be monsters.

He took a deep breath. Gathering his thoughts into a neat little idea.

Truth is objective rather than subjective, it best applies to situations where science or philosophy can identify true roots and show results in the same way a mathematical equation can show truth.

Personal truth is when we can say that our brain chemistry was impacted, that from our personal perspective we experienced the emotions we are saying we experienced, but we accept that it is a subjective matter where there can be multiple perspectives.

His mind wandered to what his mother once said to him.

"For truth drill down into your soul, find that lake of pure water that will wash you clean should you truly desire it. Learn who you really are, who you were born to be, and you will be set free. You were born to love, your soul is pure. If religion hurts, you can still find faith. You are free to choose the healthiest route for yourself; you can "Use the force, young Skywalker" or go more "traditional," what does it matter? Just know you are good inside."

I have to do this, whether I like it or not. This is the only solution.