Personal Narrative-Suffering

It is true in life that everything happens for a reason. It is also true to say that sometimes it is all about being in the right place, at the right time. There was never a more prominent example of this than a traumatic summers evening, only a few years ago.

“Well wouldn’t you look at someone weirdly if you had just saved someone from a demon?” he cleverly tossed back at me.

“PLIGHT.” GOD FORMED MAN FROM DIRT GAVE HIM THE “BREATH OF LIFE” MADE MAN IN GODS’ OWN IMAGE THEN, GAVE HIM A WIFE. NEXT, THE GARDEN OF EDEN WAS PUT IN THEIR CARE FREE TO EAT FROM ANY TREE EXCEPT THE “TREE OF KNOWLEDGE,” THERE. FROM THE “TREE OF KNOWLEDGE” GOD WARNED THEM NOT TO EAT THAT THEY WOULD SURELY DIE THEIR DEMISE TO MEET.

Put the gun down! Put the gun down! Pow Pow Pow. The gun shots cracked into the air as loud as thunder. One after another. We live day by day not knowing our end. In the blink of an eye our lives can be changed forever. Its life, yet even in knowing this we never expect tragedy to find us. We never expect it to affect our lives and the people we know and love. I’m going to share with you the day tragedy found my life.

Tongues, as of fire, and one sat upon each of them. And they were all filled with the

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

The weight of Zaroff’s body in my weak arms, the beating of the heart that I thought could still be there but came about only to be a figment of my imagination. My hands under his expensive silk, fictional whispers leaving his mouth telling me that I did it. I sent him to hell. His whispers turned into screams, blood curdling screams. I put him in. Words unable to be decoded but felt in pain. They sounded inhuman, as if my own conscious was yelling at me. My head spiraling down into somewhere I didn’t want to be.

The revolting expression he had on slowly switched to demoralized one. His shoulders dropped along with the rest of his body and I could smell a victory in the air. “You’re still pissed about that?”

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

“Anyway, slowly things changed. Days were not as bright, and the creatures seemed more fearful somehow. It’s hard to describe. You could feel the tension and smell the fear. We all knew something was happening, but we weren’t sure what. So we attempted to go on as if everything was fine. Then, out the blue, darkness fell upon the land and Milton appeared.”

I’d had many mini-lifelines thrown my way, none turned out to be the life-altering, ground shaking beneath me, and gates to opening up “heaven”, though. To me, I’d blame it on the different ways I came off to strangers, depends on the day, I could be a multitude of characters, but never latch onto the following of others. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted my lifeline to latch onto, the problem was, I was like a fishing net with a gaping hole--incapable of doing such things. Then, the last person I expected to, stepped up and accepted the challenge.

The year is 2019. The humans, as they are called, have recognized our existence for over 2 years now. Leader #70 has reached Earth and betrayed his home planet once again. He has captured a land known as America. Now that he has advanced weapons, he’s coming for revenge. Last time, he lost the battle to himself. Unfortunately, he’s more powerful than ever now. We never learned from our past mistakes and that is why tons of soldiers are suffering. I signed up for this. I shouldn’t be suffering. Yet I’m still getting this feeling of regret.

As I peered into the gallows of hell I realized that everything I’d known to this day would soon vanquish to dust before me. The lies built up into a monstrous wall would become easy to see through. I would know the truth of the changes made before my eyes and the changes made in me.

"You send them there ALONE!?" my yelling had started as he shook his head, chuckling.

"Okay, go ahead," Jake said, returning. "There are only four people in there, including Tobias, so you won't have total privacy. There's nothing I can do about that."