Death Of A Scientist

• Matthew Kuo, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2013

I couldn't believe it, they said it couldn't be done and yet it had. What did it mean, was all the time I spent for naught? Life used to be God’s domain and yet now here in front of me was something that could have been done by none other than a God. I had looked into it, examined the man, searched deeply more-so within myself then him to try to explain what I had just witnessed and yet I was unable to reach a sane conclusion.

All were equal in death, but for those who conquer it, did that make them more? The man had been shot, the gun still smoking in my hand. Yet he stood back up, face a mask of crimson but nonetheless still one full of life. It was then that he laughed, laughed at my torment, the suffering that his life and not death had brought me. The world was no longer one I could fathom, Twenty years this man had been my inferior, devoting himself to “unscientific balderdash” with no chance in hell of ever reaching me, or so I thought. I considered the idea to ask him how? How had he been able to delve into a realm beyond human understanding and return, yet my pride, or what was left of it still got the better of me. It was ruined, in tatters, my reputation ruined. Science was my life, and my life had been torn to shreds for the entire incident had been broadcast to the rest of my colleagues.

I put the gun to my head, and thought to myself, someone had to die here, and if not he, then I. And with that it ended, my life.