I gave a small gasp when Macxel took off the mask he had been wearing. It was odd seeing him for the first time without it. But his spirit seemed to lift once it was off.
By now we were a few feet into the Canyon. I looked at the Canyon walls and realized that the pictures on the walls told a story.
As we walked through the Canyon I became very absorbed into this story. It was one of the most sad stories right now, it was a story of love.
He came to save his people, but they rejected him. They mocked him. They killed him. But he never said a word in his own defense. He never struck out against any one of his murders.
This story became very real to me. I could see myself in the pictures. I mocked him,I beat him, I spat at him, I sent him to be killed…he took it all and still looked at me in love.
It made my heart heavy to think I had sent an innocent man to be killed. But still I chose to wear my mask to blend in and be a part of his killing.
The more I saw, the more I wanted to rip my mask off and stop it all. My mask became almost unbearable. It was uncomfortable and bulky. Instead of making me feel secure like it had done in the past it made me uneasy. Instead of making me feel I fit in and belonged it made me feel low and miserable.
I kept on walking. My head told me not to look any farther but something kept me going I had to see what happened.
He died, and I had been the one to kill him. There was no hope. He was the only one who had ever lived a perfect life, but now he was dead.
I sunk to the ground in utter despair and began to cry.