Fear powers the mind like nothing else.
It confuses the mind and sets a sense of disillusionment.
People loose all common sense and everything gets jumbled in their minds.
Who would have thought that something like this could happen up here?
How could somthing like this happen?
I feel sick. I want to go home.
I want all of my friends together.
I want my familt together.
I want people to stop killing for no reason.
There is no reason to kill.
Gangs are rediculous.
It's just a bunch of insecure people who are afraid to break out of their shell, afraid to be themselves.
They are afraid that they will be disowned if they do something that they are not told to do.
They are afraid of being left behind, afraid of not belonging.
Fear is an aspect in everyday life.
Sometimes it is more prominent than others.
I hate being afraid. I really hate it.
People say that gangs are a "family", that they look out for you.
But fear and anger is what drives gangs.
Fear of being "taken out".
Fear of being alone.
Gangs are not family.
They are what takes you away from your family.
They are an excuse to get out of the house and make other people's live miserable because yours is miserable.
It's a way to get you away from your family, away from making a better life for yourself.
It's a way to get into trouble.
It may be a way of life, but it is also a way of DEATH.
FEAR.
Forcing people to form groups and gangs out of violence, hate and anger.
FEAR.
It's becoming a way of life.
FEAR.
Turning stomachs. Taking lives.
FEAR.
I hate it.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Friday, October 3, 2008
Thursday, October 2, 2008
My Angel
The loudness of silence deafens me as rain pours from the sky. I don’t feel the dampness, but I’ll never feel dry. Light lingers for a moment and I ask myself why, why oh why am I about to die?
Rain drops fall like bullets, shining silver in the pale moonlight, driving themselves deep into my skin with all their might. I cover my ears and close my eyes tight. My screams are lost into the night.
Blood is streaming down my face into my eyes. A drop of blood for each of the lies told by everyone who chose to hide and all those who can’t make up their minds. Tears of blood stream down my face. Flood waters come to leave no trace of life that was ever here in this place. All the light in the world seems to fade.
Now I sit here with blood for tears, in the silence of my fears. It’s been this way it seems for years, and now the loudness of silence fills my ears. My body lays limp as blood streaks my skin. There are no thoughts of mine within. They all douse my body with alcohol and gin. Then they light the fire within. I had no choice, people were set against me. There was no way I could make them see that the true on to blame was he, who took away my virginity.
Bullets of rain pelted down on my eyes, stones of hatred began to fly. Lightning struck the distant sky, and all I could do was lay there and die. The end has come, I now must part, but before I do, they take my heart. The past is gone, the future to come, and now my life, it is undone.
The night winds blow as rain falls hard, pounding against the metal roof and wooden door. The windows rattle with the winds might as lightning chooses a place to strike. Harder and harder the gusts blow, ramming rain and hail through every crack and opening in the walls.
The house trembles as wind and rain rip away the sheeting, leaving insulation, beams, and paneling. There are no stars for hope, no moon for light, and no end to the darkness the clouds carry through this night.
The roof lifts slightly as the winds pick up. The walls leak as rain seeps through. Thunder shakes the building and lightning strikes the barn. Flames rise quickly and are extinguished in minutes. The winds and rain rage on.
How can this be? How can I know what’s happening? I should be dead, my eyes bloody, my soul taken away. How can I see; hear; smell; feel; taste, or even think? There was a storm when I died. Is there a storm in heaven, or is this my hell?
The thunder rolls, then I hear a pounding at the door, and the screams outside. They are yelling my demise. This is my hell, a hell where I am forced to relive my wrongful death. How can this be? I died for my so-called sins, why can’t they let me rest in peace? To go through that pain again is worse than death. This is my hell. Or is it?
White light streams through the window as an angel drops down.
“You have been given a second chance,” he says, “make them believe your story. Make them see reason.”
“How,” I asked with pleading eyes, gripping his robe. “How can I? They would never condemn a Priest to death. These people are blinded by what he has done.”
“Make them see that you are pure, and had no reason for wanting what he did to you.”
“HOW?!” The door bowed a little bit, as the battering ram began to break the door. “What am I supposed to do?”
The angel smiled and floated away, leaving me to wonder and stare. What was I supposed to do? How could I make them see that the Priest they thought tried to save me was the one that committed adultery? I was not the one to blame. How? How could I make them see?
Just then the door crashed open. Three men ran in after me and pinned me to the wall. I just stared in wonder. There was no way out of this. It was my hell. This was how I was going to spend eternity, in the damnation of sins committed against me, bringing me to my death.
The pain of death a second time had no effect. I could barely feel it. I wished it would end, but I knew that it would return again.
“I told you that you can change what happened,” the angel said again. “There is a way, but you have to find it.”
“How the fuck can I find the way to clear myself when all I can think of is my death, and the fact that I resigned myself to this hell?”
The angel frowned, his wings dropping at my anger.
“I told you there is a way.” And he vanished.
“What the hell? What the fucking hell?” I slammed my fists into the wall as the door crashed open again. I just waited there for the men to take me away, resigning myself again to the fact that my death was never ending.
Again, the pain of my death was minimal, being the third time. What the hell was the angel talking about? How the fuck was I supposed to show them that I was innocent? How the hell was I going to get them to listen?
I was back in the house, with the storm brewing outside. The angel appeared again.
“I told you,” he said, “You can change all of this.”
“How,” I asked again, with tears in my eyes. “You keep telling me I can change this, but you and I know both know that they won’t listen. What am I supposed to do?” The angel looked at me with caring eyes for the first time. “Help me.” My eyes were pleading as my head dropped into my hands.
The angel knelt down in front of me and took my face in his hands gently, and looked me in the eyes. His eyes were filled with care, with love. No one had ever looked at me like that, mortal or otherwise. My fear began to fade.
“There is a way I can help you,” he said. “Technically, I’m not supposed to, but I cannot bear to see you like this anymore.” He wiped the tears from my cheeks. There was something familiar about him, but I couldn’t think of what.
“How can you help me,” I asked as I reached up to his hands. They were warm, which surprised me a little. I held his hand tightly, trying to find the familiarity that was nagging at the back of my mind.
“I can grant you the power to freeze them in time and insert the memory of truth from both you and the Priest. Then they will know that you are not to blame. That you do not deserve to die.”
“You can do that?”
“I’m not supposed to, but I want to see you live.” He looked away, taking his hand from mine. The thought of familiarity running through my mind was driving me mad. Why did he seem so familiar, so… safe?
The door crashed open. To me, there was no one but me and the angel. As the men came to get me, I remembered what the angel had told me. I closed my eyes, and imagined what I wanted. They froze.
When they finally came to, they were dazed and confused.
“Young miss,” one of the men said. It was the mayor. “We are terribly sorry. We misjudged you horribly. By some divinity you have been saved. We apologize for our irrational behavior.”
“You are truly blessed with a guardian angel, ma’am,” another of the men said. As then men left, they all apologized for wrongfully condemning me. I forgave them all, filled with a new sense of faith.
The Priest met his maker, may his body rot in hell for the Devil had taken his soul. My life was now back to near normality. The angel had left, completing his mission to right a wrong. There was still that nagging feeling of familiarity though, and for the life of me, I couldn’t remember why.
“Rosalie!” I heard someone call, the voice slightly familiar. “Rose!”
I turned to see who it was.
It was unbelievable. The face. The eyes. The voice. It couldn’t be.
“William?”
“Rosalie,” he said as he wrapped his arms around me. I was in disbelief.
“Will,” I said shakily, “I thought you were dead.”
“I was,” he said. “Then I was offered a chance at redemption. If I could save one mortals life, I would be granted the rest of my life to live.”
I looked at him. How could this be? It was him. My Angel.
Rain drops fall like bullets, shining silver in the pale moonlight, driving themselves deep into my skin with all their might. I cover my ears and close my eyes tight. My screams are lost into the night.
Blood is streaming down my face into my eyes. A drop of blood for each of the lies told by everyone who chose to hide and all those who can’t make up their minds. Tears of blood stream down my face. Flood waters come to leave no trace of life that was ever here in this place. All the light in the world seems to fade.
Now I sit here with blood for tears, in the silence of my fears. It’s been this way it seems for years, and now the loudness of silence fills my ears. My body lays limp as blood streaks my skin. There are no thoughts of mine within. They all douse my body with alcohol and gin. Then they light the fire within. I had no choice, people were set against me. There was no way I could make them see that the true on to blame was he, who took away my virginity.
Bullets of rain pelted down on my eyes, stones of hatred began to fly. Lightning struck the distant sky, and all I could do was lay there and die. The end has come, I now must part, but before I do, they take my heart. The past is gone, the future to come, and now my life, it is undone.
The night winds blow as rain falls hard, pounding against the metal roof and wooden door. The windows rattle with the winds might as lightning chooses a place to strike. Harder and harder the gusts blow, ramming rain and hail through every crack and opening in the walls.
The house trembles as wind and rain rip away the sheeting, leaving insulation, beams, and paneling. There are no stars for hope, no moon for light, and no end to the darkness the clouds carry through this night.
The roof lifts slightly as the winds pick up. The walls leak as rain seeps through. Thunder shakes the building and lightning strikes the barn. Flames rise quickly and are extinguished in minutes. The winds and rain rage on.
How can this be? How can I know what’s happening? I should be dead, my eyes bloody, my soul taken away. How can I see; hear; smell; feel; taste, or even think? There was a storm when I died. Is there a storm in heaven, or is this my hell?
The thunder rolls, then I hear a pounding at the door, and the screams outside. They are yelling my demise. This is my hell, a hell where I am forced to relive my wrongful death. How can this be? I died for my so-called sins, why can’t they let me rest in peace? To go through that pain again is worse than death. This is my hell. Or is it?
White light streams through the window as an angel drops down.
“You have been given a second chance,” he says, “make them believe your story. Make them see reason.”
“How,” I asked with pleading eyes, gripping his robe. “How can I? They would never condemn a Priest to death. These people are blinded by what he has done.”
“Make them see that you are pure, and had no reason for wanting what he did to you.”
“HOW?!” The door bowed a little bit, as the battering ram began to break the door. “What am I supposed to do?”
The angel smiled and floated away, leaving me to wonder and stare. What was I supposed to do? How could I make them see that the Priest they thought tried to save me was the one that committed adultery? I was not the one to blame. How? How could I make them see?
Just then the door crashed open. Three men ran in after me and pinned me to the wall. I just stared in wonder. There was no way out of this. It was my hell. This was how I was going to spend eternity, in the damnation of sins committed against me, bringing me to my death.
The pain of death a second time had no effect. I could barely feel it. I wished it would end, but I knew that it would return again.
“I told you that you can change what happened,” the angel said again. “There is a way, but you have to find it.”
“How the fuck can I find the way to clear myself when all I can think of is my death, and the fact that I resigned myself to this hell?”
The angel frowned, his wings dropping at my anger.
“I told you there is a way.” And he vanished.
“What the hell? What the fucking hell?” I slammed my fists into the wall as the door crashed open again. I just waited there for the men to take me away, resigning myself again to the fact that my death was never ending.
Again, the pain of my death was minimal, being the third time. What the hell was the angel talking about? How the fuck was I supposed to show them that I was innocent? How the hell was I going to get them to listen?
I was back in the house, with the storm brewing outside. The angel appeared again.
“I told you,” he said, “You can change all of this.”
“How,” I asked again, with tears in my eyes. “You keep telling me I can change this, but you and I know both know that they won’t listen. What am I supposed to do?” The angel looked at me with caring eyes for the first time. “Help me.” My eyes were pleading as my head dropped into my hands.
The angel knelt down in front of me and took my face in his hands gently, and looked me in the eyes. His eyes were filled with care, with love. No one had ever looked at me like that, mortal or otherwise. My fear began to fade.
“There is a way I can help you,” he said. “Technically, I’m not supposed to, but I cannot bear to see you like this anymore.” He wiped the tears from my cheeks. There was something familiar about him, but I couldn’t think of what.
“How can you help me,” I asked as I reached up to his hands. They were warm, which surprised me a little. I held his hand tightly, trying to find the familiarity that was nagging at the back of my mind.
“I can grant you the power to freeze them in time and insert the memory of truth from both you and the Priest. Then they will know that you are not to blame. That you do not deserve to die.”
“You can do that?”
“I’m not supposed to, but I want to see you live.” He looked away, taking his hand from mine. The thought of familiarity running through my mind was driving me mad. Why did he seem so familiar, so… safe?
The door crashed open. To me, there was no one but me and the angel. As the men came to get me, I remembered what the angel had told me. I closed my eyes, and imagined what I wanted. They froze.
When they finally came to, they were dazed and confused.
“Young miss,” one of the men said. It was the mayor. “We are terribly sorry. We misjudged you horribly. By some divinity you have been saved. We apologize for our irrational behavior.”
“You are truly blessed with a guardian angel, ma’am,” another of the men said. As then men left, they all apologized for wrongfully condemning me. I forgave them all, filled with a new sense of faith.
The Priest met his maker, may his body rot in hell for the Devil had taken his soul. My life was now back to near normality. The angel had left, completing his mission to right a wrong. There was still that nagging feeling of familiarity though, and for the life of me, I couldn’t remember why.
“Rosalie!” I heard someone call, the voice slightly familiar. “Rose!”
I turned to see who it was.
It was unbelievable. The face. The eyes. The voice. It couldn’t be.
“William?”
“Rosalie,” he said as he wrapped his arms around me. I was in disbelief.
“Will,” I said shakily, “I thought you were dead.”
“I was,” he said. “Then I was offered a chance at redemption. If I could save one mortals life, I would be granted the rest of my life to live.”
I looked at him. How could this be? It was him. My Angel.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)