Life in the Mist (a short story)

So many voices, whispering murmurs surround me in this fog. The path splits before me, but the haze blocks out all knowledge of which pathway I should take, and so I listen. The voices on the left path draw my attention at once. They speak words that I’ve come to know well, in a language I clearly understand. Most all of them are glad and full of rejoicing, they don’t sound lost or full of longing like mine. I hear laughter, and dancing, and cheers and applause, voices that encourage and praise human cause. Perhaps the fog is clearer there; maybe they understand where my happiness can be found. Already the fog on that trail looks less sinister and more inviting than the way to the right, yet…. I will listen to both sides. It was, after all, my quick and reckless decision making that got me here in the first place, so I will endeavor to be wise and listen again.
That’s strange, voices I heard from the path to the right seem quieter, barely a whisper now, and those to the left, are they louder and closer? Are they coming to save me from this deep haze that surrounds me? I prayed that someone would. A voice from the right path now beckons, in a language I’ve never heard before, yet I understand it says "come, this is the way." 'Way to what?' I ask myself, more loneliness. Beyond the whispers all I hear are deep groaning and yearning from the right path, I’ve got enough of that already. No, that’s not all, I also hear weeping, and yet… in the stillness behind it all… a joyful praise. Surely that path is full of crazies, nut jobs and “hard workers" who foolishly chase after impossible dreams. That path to the right definitely sounds more difficult, a hard and rocky path, not near as inviting. Is it my imagination? In this fog do my eyes speak the truth, is this fog finally lifting? On the right path I can now see a man; he stands and calls to a crowd on the left. Both are now barely visible. His voice is not a weak whisper anymore, but a bold message full of power and hope. Perhaps he is right, and his path is the way I should take, but just then my thoughts of peace were snatched quickly away by what I saw next. That happy-go-lucky crowd on the left path had been, in their merriment, laughing at the man on the right path, but that only lasted for a minute, and then out of nowhere without reason or cause they started assaulting him. At first verbally, but then as hatred filled their eyes they all, with their hands joined as one, threw a great massive stone, quickly killing the man on the right. And then as if nothing had happened they returned to their gaiety. Brutally slaughtered, the man on the right paths blood soaked into the ground, as tears from the horror and injustice of what I'd just witnessed, fell from my eyes. And yet those on the left seemed unaffected by it all, and their good times continued as if nothing had happened. It was getting dark now and the mist seemed a bit thicker again, but I’m sure that I saw, before all went black, the man on the right being buried by his loved ones, and to my amazement another took his place, looking different yet strangely the same, 'both fools no doubt' I thought as the darkness now encompassed me, nothing more to see until morning.

NOT FINISHED JUST HAVEN”T GOTTEN BACK TO THIS ONE YET.