Khmer Rouge

The words 'Khmer Rouge' appearing on the screen shocked me. I knew what that was. The Cambodian genocide was caused by that party. My heart sped up. I was absolutely terrified to see what would happen. Their heads won't truly get chopped off, right? Another set of words appeared.

'Runtime: 3h 27m'

Three hours of watching innocent lives being taken. This had to be some type of occult thing. I glanced at Fortune as I gripped the arm rest of the couch. His face wasn't in terror. It wasn't in fear. There was no hint of regret in it at all. In admiration and commendation, Fortune stared at the screen. As soon as the first scene began, I puked into the trash can Fortune provided me with earlier. The screen automatically switched to the second scene now. The scene I witnessed made me feel as though I had been there myself, as if I could feel what the victims felt. My body began to shake. Why was the quality so high when this took place in the 1970s?

There were children being beaten against a thick tree. People screaming from surgery being done to them without anesthesia. One that stained my mind to this day was a girl about my age having surgery performed on her while her throat was slit. Scenes of the Khmer Rouge laughing with each other and making jokes in such terrible times. Some of them even expressed sympathy for their victims. But then, they too were shot for rebelling against the orders of the absolute. It was all violence. Murder after murder. Torture after torture. Rape after rape. It never ended. The scenes replayed in my mind as if I had been traumatized on the front lines. Many of the children were malnourished, if not all.

"Fortune," I stuttered.

He ignored me and stayed fixated on the screen, being sure not to miss a single part. "Treasure, my favorite part is coming up."

His favorite part? How can anyone say something like that while watching something so ferocious? I looked back up at the screen, holding my stomach. It hurt so much. I could feel each nerve in my hands as I tightened them. I could feel each hair on my legs and my feet were frozen inside my shoes. There it was. Exactly what Fortune was speaking about with our classmates.

A man with glasses who was tied. Bound to his ankles by his hands. He was a prisoner, I could tell by the clothing he had on by now. Although he watched as the Khmer Rouge pulled out their scythes, he said nothing. He didn't even dare face away. He took death right on. Lying in the fields and bound so tightly you cannot move your limbs, you would imagine a man would be as scared as a gazelle running from a lion in that situation. I was shaking for him. The Khmer Rouge spoke foul things to him. I could tell even if I didn't understand the language, and the man spit on them. Without a second thought the scythe swung across his neck in a swift motion. Before I could even react, Fortune jumped out and screamed, "Woo! Yes, let's replay it."

I said nothing and watched the scene over and over, at least fifteen times before Fortune decided he could just rewatch it later after we finished the entire film.

It got to the point where I was throwing up but nothing was coming out, not even my spit anymore. While I watched as others had their guts pulled out I could feel my own falling. Their red stained stomachs were pouring out liters of blood as they screamed. Children having their throats slit and stabbed through the chest by other children. I wanted to glance at Fortune but I chose not to. I was terrified that if I did I wouldn't be the same. I wouldn't trust him anymore if I looked. I shouldn't look. I can't look. I wouldn't look. I looked. A grin was plastered on Fortune's face while he watched these brutal murders. At that moment, the CD ended and we sat in silence for a minute at most.

"Did you like it?" Fortune asked.

I stared at him, "Like?"

Fortune chuckled, "Well, the first time it was like that..."

"How many times have you watched it?" I furrowed my eyebrows in pain.

"This is my twelfth time," he admitted. "It feels so enthralling watching this!"

I tilted my head toward him closer to listen to what he had to say.

"Your stomach hurts at first, then that pain turns into tolerance," he told me. "Yes, the events are horrid and absolutely terrible but have you ever seen anything like this? Such rare footage? This is one of the CDs. Number three, the Khmer Rouge. Only one. There are fourteen of these, fourteen of humanity's wretched. Humanity is scum. Don't you want to see how humanity transpired? How have we evolved? How did we used to let rage and pride consume our minds? I want to see how wicked humans can get in the face of defeat. I want to see the look of despair on their faces as the scythe swings down on them. I also want to hear the cries of horror and fear from their chest with all their might. I need each one of those CDs, will you help me find them? Treasure, help me find humanity's written."

Fortune's speech made my heart stop but before I could respond he continued, "Treasure, your name fits into mine like a puzzle. We are for each other. Fortune and Treasure, two of the many things humans want. We can be what others long for, we can be what they want to be. I don't care about money. Forty million yen? What is money compared to the wisdom of knowledge? I care about the truth, not my taxes."

"The wisdom of knowledge..." I repeated still trying to comprehend Fortune's words.

Fortune sat right next to me and grabbed my shoulders, making my face look at his. "Treasure, you can be so much better. So much smarter. So much more if you knew the real history behind humans. Isn't there anything you want to know?"

There was but it was not relevant to the conversation and I would have rather not brought up personal issues with Fortune after the speech he just gave. I backed up and stood up, "I'm heading home."

"Home?" Fortune laughed. "Does your mother even want you there?"

I stood there. Even though I said I wanted to leave home there's no way I'm getting out of here without Fortune's help. He stood and walked over directly in front of me. "Aren't you curious as to why mothers favor their sons? Don't you hate your father, Treasure?" he whispered. "You miss your brother. Do you not?"

When I finally answered, I balled my fist and revealed, "Yes, I do."

Fortune whispered into my ear. He whispered something that changed my perspective on everything. It changed my attitude, my personality and even the way I ate.

There is still life in him.

I didn't need to ask Fortune if what he was saying was true because he had read my mind before I even walked into his home. That was exactly what I wanted to know. I whispered back, "Where?"

"I heard," he paused and smiled, "that he lives in Iraq guarding the tenth CD."

I didn't hesitate, "I'll help you."

I needed to see my brother. It was his fault that I was like this. His fault. It was all his fault. Tears fell down my cheeks without me even noticing and Fortune hugged me almost immediately.

"I'll help you," Fortune squeezed me even tighter.