Descriptive Essay - Hunted And Oppressed

Vehemently, I threw my myself on the bed, covered my head with pillows and screamed in pain and agony.Like a pack of wild, hungry ferocious wolves, the thoughts began to commence and every second they got louder. Like paws,every sentence clawed at my brain,every thought pierced my mind in agony,and my body began to shake. The shivers started from the tip of my fingers and cascaded straight down my gut, my body shook, and I screamed

terror. The thing was almost upon me, and I had no way to escape. Still I pushed myself up and

I don’t quite know how to explain what happened next. It was like being in a sensory deprivation tank, but I could feel—no that's not right—I could sense something different was moving toward me.

Waking in a startle, I sat up in my bed... checking my surroundings.... fearful that I was not alone...

I felt my heartbeat rising every step I took as the blood rushed to the surface of my skin. My muscles tightened, beginning with my legs as if I could’ve ran fast enough to chase the truck. The image of the man and his words repeated many times in my mind, making me vulnerable to hatred. I thought I was doing something good and just. I was naïve. I thought everyone would gladly give us a helping hand. I looked at everyone around me, and I noticed it wasn’t just me that was burning with raged. I could see the anger in their eyes as they conversed with each other. It wasn’t until a loud voice snapped me out of it. “Do not show fear! Do not show anger! Our justice cannot break that easily!”

The third Saturday of November was one filled with conflicting emotions: excitement, fear, optimism, and nervousness. The screeching sound of the alarm at 4:00 a.m. initiated a sense of panic and thrill throughout me; it was the opening day of the gun deer hunting season. Within minutes, I was dressed from head to toe in bright, blaze orange that could be recognized from miles away. I reluctantly, yet willingly, climbed into the truck to head to the hunting land in Adams County, Wisconsin. My stomach felt like it was tied into knots. My mind was again flooded with conflicting emotions. I began to wonder: will I get a deer? Will I not get a deer? Will I get a buck?

I used to be proud of who I was. I used to be free, but I’ve fallen, slowly stripped bare of all I was and could have been. I resent them, those who gruesomely ripped me from my haven and shackled me beneath their feet. I resent the world for abandoning me in this hell, leaving me to suffer. I resent who I have become, a puppet, used only for their entertainment. The devil only grows within me, plaguing my mind during the sleepless nights. Feeding images into my mind. Images of their blood splattered across the walls of their beloved blue and red (tent). My teeth sinking into the fatty flesh of their neck. The horror painted on their faces as I gleefully avenge the loss of my sanity. And I detest myself. I loathe the satisfaction that I feel fantasising about their murder. I fear myself, and what I have become under their control. I yearn for the days I spent in my

I awoke to a cacophony of screams, both of excitement and of pain. I jolted up quickly, unable to control my own muscles or vocal chords, as if a spectre was holding me back with airy fingers of death.

The trees blurred together as I whisked past them. I had to keep running, the fear pumping through my veins kept me going for this long. I never was good a geography and judging by where I am, I’m lost. This was bad, how was I supposed to hide if I didn't know where I was hiding.

My body halts up immediately at the sound of the familiar voice and without warning vague memories of the past hours flood back into my brain , the panic , the need for survival , the hell .

I would shut my eyes because I knew what was coming. And before I shut my eyes, I held my breath, like a swimmer ready to dive into a deep ocean. I could never watch when his hands came toward me; I only patiently waited for the harsh sound of the strike. I would always remember his eyes right before I closed my own: pupils wide with rage, cold, and dark eyebrows clenched with hate. When it finally came, I never knew which fist hit me first, or which blow sent me to my knees because I could not bring myself to open my eyes. They were closed because I didn’t want to see what he had promised he would never do again. In the darkness of my mind, I could escape to a paradise where he would never reach me. I would find again the haven where I

Scuttling innocently through the twisting corridors I bore the same expression; head down, shoulders hunched, avoiding any eye contact - my desperate attempts to deter the despot for one day at least. Despite my efforts, there was no escape, as seemingly within the second of having that naively optimistic thought, a cruel, callous voice demanded I surrender my broach. Fear spiked, as it always did, but with it came something else, an alien emotion ... Looking back now, I see that it must have been the cumulative effect of months of torment that brought me to the realisation that at this point I had reached the nadir of my life. Deriding cackles pierced my ears and this time I recognised the emotion, fury. It burned through my veins, along with the memories of the past to form a feeling of overwhelming power. I met the daggers that would usually invoke terror, and calmly, I said “No.”

It started with a chill, each vertebrae vibrating one by one up my spine. Then the heat, my face flush and palms clammy. I could never keep up with my breathing, for it seemed as though each time I breathed out, I needed more air almost immediately. Soon, my mind was flooded with unsettling images, a new one appearing nearly every second, each worse than the last. Everything that I found comfort in was now an enemy. When will this end? My body could not keep up with the trembles and I could not resist the urge to scream. Was this room always so small? My eyes grew indecisive, darting across the room, until the capillaries within them bulged so greatly that I clenched my eyelids shut. Then, a long, deep breath.

Rainsford hefted his shaking body out of the ocean, each limb weighing a thousand pounds. He collapsed onto the beach, the sharp rocks around him dug into the small of his back. One long shuddering breath was uttered before he stood slowly. Physical exhaustion couldn’t beat him, or the General would surely find him there, helpless and weak.

Looking back on it now, it wasn't so bad because they only ever hit me