The abuse I received just because of my destiny made me hate it even more. My parents hadn’t lied this life was hard, indeed. I couldn’t even put myself together.Īs I was trying to recover from this atrocity, I was shoved into a little plastic bag and set in a cold dark room. I felt wronged, violated in the worst ways possible, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I started praying, begging, and pleading for forgiveness for my transgressions deeming them as nothing more than rebellious teenage behavior and far from requiring this kind of punishment. The searing pain left from these cuts was worse than anything I could imagine. Before I could I felt the knife slicing me the other way. As it reached the end and pulled away, I felt I could breathe again, and tried to retain my sanity. I screamed out in pain as the knife was dragged over the top of me.
It sliced down from one edge of me to the other. I felt the sharp edge of it cutting deep into me. I felt the cool steel of the knife again. She was a bit cheesy anyway, and I ended up dumping her shortly after that. The stink we made was horrendous! We got into all the bad stuff, partied all hours of the day and night, skipped out on school, and there was once I was found in a compromising position with my girlfriend. I chose a few bad apples as my friends to run around with. If something was deemed bad or wrong, I did it. Simply put, I was the worst offspring in all of history. I refused to do anything my parents said, doing what I could to hopefully make them disown me, which I was convinced would release me from the bond of my calling in life. I started playing the part of a rebellious teenager. I’m pretty sure this is where I should cue the guillotine drums. Not only that, but I was lucky enough to be able to ride in a lunchbox! Yeah, more like a locked container of doom and despair offering nothing more than death when it arrived at its destination. Every time I talked to someone they went on and on about how lucky I was to have this life: the savior of a hungry child.
Everyone that passed by me knew what my purpose in life was, and I hated every second of it. My destiny, as they called it, haunted me like nothing else. It all sounded like I was being fed a line, and a pretty terrible one at that. I mean, who wants to go out in a blaze of glory to help someone else, probably not receive any recognition for it, but it was still part of a worthy cause. That sounded like a pretty horrible life to me. My destiny was to give my life for the greater good of a child I had never met? What? What child? What IS a child, anyway? I needed to prepare? As that question crossed my mind, what they had said earlier finally registered. Now, you must prepare, because this journey will be hard,” Mom said. It’s what you were born to do! You’ll be doing such a good deed in this, and we’re so very proud of you. They were talking, but it took a bit before what they were saying completely registered. I could read the concern etched all over them, like parents often do when they just witnessed one of their children get hurt, even before they clearly came into view and the double vision passed. I looked up and noticed my parents standing around me. When I regained my wits, the first thing I noticed was the extremely painful headache I had, but then the two sensations were combined into this mesh of thickly suffocating goop that was oozing around inside of me. The combination of the two sensations made me feel incredibly awkward, like each half of me was something completely different than the other.īefore I could react, I was floating in the air, and the two sides were coming closer at an increasing amount of speed until they were slammed together. One side was thick like plaster, but the other side was oozing and sticky like dough that was too wet or not mixed right. The contrast of the two sides of me was amazing. It wasn’t as sticky, but it was thick, suffocating in texture until I felt my pores would asphyxiate underneath it. This time the goop felt completely different. I thought it was strange that only one side of me was covered, before they moved on to the other half. “Hey! HEY! What’s goin’ on? The hell are you doing?!” I yelled. The goop oozed into every pore until it had seeped deep inside of me to where there was no chance at cleaning it out, even if I was able to try. My first memory was the cold steel running along my sides with this gooey stuff sliding all over, along the surface of me until every inch was covered.
0 kommentar(er)
