Christian J. 7 october 2011.
I should have realised back then whenall I got was that look of incredulity from that desk sergeant, that noone cared, should have sensed it back then. It was the same stare Ireceived from her when I asked about my team of battlers, my littleswimmers, the essence of my DNA whom I knew were high fiving eachother as they celebrated their release and frolicked about, playingand swimming. It was that same look that remained even after I hadfranticly whipped off the sheets and scowled under the bed. “youcannot hide them from me” I stated feverishly “what have you donewith them”. The same blank stare persisted and her mouth was stillin that “O” position. I knew there was something wrong.
“what's in that jar” I yelled“night cream” she responded. There was no look of regret or evenpenitence on her face, she looked rather quite relaxed actually, evenhappy..
Is there no justice. I did not sign anyagreement or waive any legal contract that stated that I could berobbed, there was no small print. I was not ready for what was goingto be an inevitable and horrendous outcome. It was too frightening toeven think about but I had to face up to it..
They were gone, all ten thousand ofthem, vanished, without a trace , never to be seen again. I wasbesides myself. Even the FBI brushed it off like it was some figmentof my imagination. They just did not care what happened to myspermatozoa, they were brutal as well as blasé. I called myspermetologist for advice, hoping that he could shine some light onthe subject but just like all the others, he was dispassionate, all Ireceived was a quick “call back, if you need any other help” andthat was it.
I knew what had happened, I had beenthe victim of DNA theft akin to selling body parts but a lot moreserious. This was not just one item, it was ten thousand, it was massmurder, no, it was spermicide in the worst possible circumstance. Ispent the next few days consoling myself, hoping beyond hope that Iwas wrong, that all my little buddies would return and everythingwould be back to normal. I had even named each and every one,included middle eastern and asian names like Ho and Achmed. Is thereno justice in this world.
The funeral came and went, people weresympathetic but no one really understood my pain or felt the anguishthat had engulfed me. I had trusted my little guys, my spermies (my pet name for the team) to someone else and now they are all gone,disappeared off the face of the earth. They were now just a memory.The coffins were tiny, all ten thousand of them, resplendent in theirbeautifully crafted virgin birch, with their names embossed in goldlettering..
I proceeded to count them, just onelast time, for old times sake, 9,998, 9999, “where is Ho?” Icried out “he is not here, he's missing !”. How could we possiblyhave missed Ho. It was then that it suddenly dawned on me , it waseven worse than the first, another observation akin to those youpreferred not to ponder, as the outcome was just too bizarre. One ofher eggs had eaten him, I knew it. They are rampant predators, justwaiting and hiding in tubes for the right moment. They even disguisethemselves as follicles and then turn into other shapes, like eggs,to fool the unsuspecting, they had fooled Ho. He was trapped like abug in a venus flytrap, I knew that that was exactly what happened,“oh Ho, what have I done”.. I hope I never see her again. Thiscrime should not go unpunished and the punishment should fit thecrime. An appropriate sentence would be nine months hard labour andforced into community service to care after other human beings, justso the culprit can realise exactly what I had already been through...
Christian J.
