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Monday, January 3, 2011
Fear & Guilt
Shut up! Just shut up!
Cried the fearful boy to himself, cowered into the darkest corner of his room. It was happening again. The monster was torturing his slave yet again. He feared for his own life, yet ashamed that he could do nothing to help his mother. The whimpering sobs turned into loud helpless wails; it caught the monster's attention. He walked into his room, and bellowed at the wailing child. The child tried to run; the corner he'd chosen to hide had proven to be his nemesis, there was nowhere to escape. He watched as the monster took off his belt in one quick motion and rained whips of torture at himself. Suddenly, he seemed to be watching as a third party. He felt no pain; only sorrow. He turned and tried to look for his mother. She was in a bloodied mess herself. He made a loud sigh. He'd forgotten if he was inside his body or out. Then it dawned on him that he'd returned to his physical body - the pain was excruciating. He'd peed in his pants again. Father is not going to like it. True enough, the monster; his father, grabbed him by both arms and lifted him as if he was only a small parcel. He was thrown onto the bathtub like a rag. "Clean yourself up you filthy little creature!" At least the beating had stopped, he thought to himself. The child took one final look as his mother - and closed the bathroom door to safety; shutting out the horrible shrieks from her mother that came after. The monster had gone at her again. He shuddered at the thought of a dead mother greeting him when he was done with the washing up. That dreadful feeling of guilt came over him yet once more. Then he realized he was no longer a child; he was standing at the bathroom door, with tears in his eyes. This guilt... it's so familiar... "I've let her down," he said as he walked to her side, embracing the crying damsel. "I've let you down." --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Yes, I wrote this. No, I didn't plagiarize. I mentioned I was gonna try writing in metaphors... So I thought I'll start easy. Fear and Guilt. In my sense. In the form of a helpless child. Not that this ever happened (resemblance to real-life characters are totally coincidental). I think my fear and guilt are slowly dissipating, thank God. You do realize how terrifying it is to be suffering like this everyday now, don't you? |