Day 556

a murdered medical aid worker

When his phone was discovered
his mother found that her son
had recorded his own death.  Some
who’d accompanied him
were already dying; he knew
what would happen.  First
a video; then — when
he became too weak — only his voice.
Forgive me for the pain
this causes you, he said, and told
the story until his whole story
was finished. The phone
went on recording — video: blood 
in the field, a clear sky, grasses.
The phone kept going
til its battery ran out.  His mother
watching, listening, over and over,
Forgive me.  Thinking she heard
his last pained stammering
breaths before the only sounds
were from others, from birds 
passing randomly — some
searching for prey? — over
the field.