"I was feeling dead, restrained, and empty as I woke up in a barren land that saw no light and no hope. I got out of bed and tried to drink a glass of water, but as I did, nothing but blood flowed from the tap. Fear entered my body as I stood there to process what had happened. Like a child, I wanted nothing more than to cry for my mother, wanting to run more than anything but also fearing what comes next. I walked out of the kitchen, and what I saw made me do what I feared the most: seeing my mother get shot in front of me, blood running from her corpse onto the floor. I swiftly ran to tackle the man as he opened the other doors in my house, only to phase through the man... was I a ghost? Why was he not falling to the ground? I could do nothing but observe as the man opened the doors to my other family members' rooms, shooting them all one by one in front of my eyes... the tears I wanted to shed never came, only blood in my eyes and nothing more.
I tried running away, but to no avail. Maybe slitting my thigh will help me escape these dreadful movies that replay in my head, hoping for stress that will forever stay in a tranquil room. My throat, forever bleeding and hurting, despite the remorse, drowning in pills, the pain persists. Wondering why I never feel anything anymore, maybe if I black out, I'll finally feel something, the hand so vague and the smile so fake. I open the door, the sky is burning, yet the snowflakes fall so gently onto the warm and loving grass.
Blood on my hands, tainting the grass that once loved, now punishing me for my disobedience, for I have sinned on holy ground. Waiting for a question with such an easy answer, what I wish for is death, but death is only for the pure and good... not for someone as vile as myself, for I have always thought that the victor is the one that lives, and that death is only for the losers. I stand there for a while before falling to the ground, look down at my knees to see them bleeding and cracked. I try to stand up, but once again, I fall, for I have punished those who need, now I need, and I am the one being punished. It was my turn, yes, my turn to need, it was my turn for punishment... No one falls without reason, and I fell because I have been too arrogant.
I continue bleeding, my ailing mind breaks with the echoes of my mother's voice as she lay there and died slowly. Her echoing screams haunting my mind; God why have thou taken my mother, God why have thou forsaken me? God why have thou taken their life but not mine? God, is this what thou call justice? Were the questions that ran through my mind as I was stressing on the scorching line of tranquility.
A door appeared in front of me, as I opened the door the world behind me started to break down and fall into a void of nothingness, from the dark void comes a voice of despair, a voice that cries my name for I have sinned in its name. A voice indistinguishable from the people I've hurt in my life, the voices pierce a hole through my heart and an indescribable pain enters my body as the blood flows like a river from my chest and onto the ground. I crawl towards the door, but to no avail, with every movement I make the door moves further away from me, but is always at the same distance as before. I try to close the distance between me and the door, hopefully, I can escape, hopefully, I can get the blessing of death if I reach this door. Is someone as vile as me worthy of such a reward?
Is this what I seek? Is this what I have been seeking all my life? Am I allowed to rest, or will I have to continue to suffer like I made the others suffer?
Is it possible? Is it possible to trust these words? Or are they just as vile as my own? No one will ever know, for no one will ever ask."
