Some people call me a murderer, others call me a monster. I illude my victims with my deceiving appearance. They let me in, oblivious of danger, and let me become part of their body. I can feel everything: their quickening hearthbeat, their breathless movements and their gasps. I can feel life abandoning them. I remember when they were free, living in harmony with the environment surrounding them. This the way they die, slowly chocking from the inside. I have more than a thousand different faces, I have more than a thousand victims. But I'm innocent. I'm not guilty, nor am I a sinner. I'm the result of the one who created me. He has got his hands full of my crimes, but his conscience doesn't bear any burden. He hasn't seen the things I've seen, he hasn't touched them with his own hands. Only now has he started to realize that my actions are turning against him. Only now has he started to ask for forgiveness.
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Murderer (#PlanetOrPlastic contest)
Short StorySometimes people describes pollution as an environment issues but they don't say that pollution is only made by humans on earth.
