I recall a story; that of a young lad and the tribulations of his last day amongst the living. A sad tale, indeed, leaving one with a sense of lesson learned. There is not a day that passes in which I do not think of that day with a heavy heart…

Christos was an average lad, never too excessive or too lax. He was relatively happy in his routine. When excitement arose, he would accept it as a new and delicious tidbit of life that comes not often at all. So thus did it happen.

"Hello!" Christos called out as he entered the room. I had been writing and didn't hear him enter my room, much less my home. No matter.
"Salutations," I turned from my work to see who it was. Excitedly I rose to greet my friend.
"What are you doing?" He asked, looking directly at my work.
"Just writing a short story about truth, love, life, and all that nonsense," I grinned widely, while leaning loosely against my bed.
"Oh, sounds like fun," Was his response with a short laugh. Sometimes the art of conversation evaded him.
"So, friend, what is news?" I turned to grab my boots. I began to fasten them upon my feet as he spoke.
"Oh, not much. Have any plans for today?"
"Not really, just writing. I was considering taking some time out to actually eat something."
"How about some exercise?" A malefic grin spread wide across my good pal's face.
"That depends on what you had in mind, friend," I said as I stood. I sprinkled some food into my fish tank. The Blackfin sharks swirled around, devouring greedily.
"I happened to pass a park on the way here. It demands our attention. Are you up to terror- ahh..." He corrected himself, "Becoming sovereign over some children?"
"Absolutely!" It was actually a pretty good suggestion, I'm rarely one to pass up an opportunity to bother someone.
"Are you going to eat first?"
Watching the fish devour their meal seemed to remind my body that it hadn't had anything to eat for at least twelve hours. I nodded at Christos.


The meal was inconsequential, it was at the park where the excitement lay.


The day was hot and muggy. Virtually up to 98 degrees. Children ran to and fro despite the heat. I felt stifled under all of my clothing, but determined to have a good time none the less.

Forcing children from their favorite park toys, Christos and I gradually built up an immense empire in which we were the leading factions. It was mere child's play to subjugate the opposing forces (seeing as how they were all but three feet tall).
"It seems as if we have done well today," Christos noted, surveying the land with a steely eye.
"I must agree!" I cried out at him from below his perch, I was busy forcing back the children from our castle. At some point they decided to rally together to free themselves from our terrible tyranny. It was a daunting task, as I was hot and muggy.
I glanced up to Christos, and he said it, and it was then that it happened.
"I hope nobody comes along that can truly oppose our rule," Christos noted, his eyes narrow, surveying the land. But somebody did, despite his hopes and aspirations.
"Nazis!" I cried out, children began to run around frantically as the horrible horde began firing their WWII weapons at us.
"What do they want?" Christos cried out, taking cover.
"I don't know! Perhaps they want to conquer us!" The bodies of children began to litter the now blood red sand. At least our methods of domination were less costly to life, I paused to note.
As bullets and mortar shells pounded down around the jungle gym that was our palace, we threw gobs of blood red sand and rocks back at the approaching menace. I couldn't believe that in all playground empires in all of the world, that they would want ours!

Somewhere there was the sound of V2 rockets impacting with a merry-go-round.
"What can we do?" Christos cried out over the tremulous and deafening roar.
"Fall back and let them take the damned gym. We can go to another park!" I cried, we had inched our way back to a floral garden that had masked our position.
The children were attacking the Nazi menace with sticks and stones (which failed to break their bones), others attempted to make fortifications and trenches with the fixed manual back-hoes on one side of the open field. Their efforts where for naught, they were scattered to the mercies of a German grenade.
"NO!" Cried Christos, "That is MY Empire I shall defend as best as I can!"
His bravery and valor brought me to tears. Christos raced up the side of our abandoned palace, hot bullets passing within inches of his skin. But I was afraid it was too late.
A double agent child shot poor Christos in the leg, disabling him... I could do nothing but watch in terror at my friend's demise! But the Nazis, in all their twisted mercy, decided that they would not kill him outright.
He was locked up and held for trial as a war criminal against the Nazi armies.
I watched from afar as they commenced to try, and convict my friend of said war crimes.
Rallying up the few remaining children and trying to play upon their sympathies, I (their former enemy) came forth as their new friend. I helped them to arm themselves with whatever possible and to kindle the spirit of war within them. I wished that I had thought to bring some stock WWII propaganda footage, but I had to do without. Together we would free our fallen monarch from the reigns that held him so tight.
On the day of Christos' execution, we would attack at the last moment and hope to free my friend. We camped out under a battered slide, beneath the stars so bright and hopeful.
It came the next day, at roughly noon. As Christos was set up against a wall to be shot, we crept up behind the enemy forces, armed with sticks, stones, broken bones, and words if all else failed.
Slowly the countdown before my friend's death drew to a close, and it was then that we charged with the wind to our backs and spirits ready to die.
Many were lost in the gallant battle, many were shot down before they even set foot onto enemy soil. I was horribly wounded in the shoulder, my arm almost had to be amputated.
Eventually, throughout all the mists of blood, burnt powder, and the sounds of loud shots all around (and today I still cannot hear with the same facility that once I could), we achieved our goal. But it was too late.

My friend lay dead on the concrete like a dog shot down by an angry neighbor. Crying to the heavens, crying out to the ancient gods, I called upon my vengeance for this deed done unto my good friend...
Summoning the powers deep within myself I rose into the sky and smote every Nazi with bolts of holy light from my hands, but that is a story for another time, another place.
I still have mementos of that dreary, yet victorious day. Christos' skull sits cheerily in the bathroom, a reminder that death may come at any time. The children who survived the battle went on to the third and fourth grades upon the new school year, left wiser, if not morose.
As for the park, it still exists. Of course environmentalists have reconstructed the damaged land. A statue to his glory stands bearing Christos' name in the center of the park, along with the names of the children whom died fighting to preserve that, which was theirs.
I still use that tire swing when I'm feeling bored... I look around and remember what had happened here. And always a grim, yet determined, smile forms as I watch the children play.
Someday... Someday...