Story of a Man

It was just one of those moments. You know, one of those moments where you are so angry and you act rashly and impulsively and then afterwards you have no idea what the hell you have just done. Well, that's how my whole life is. It is a blank canvas and when you try to draw or paint it splatters everything right back at you, right into your face. You see that is one of the Cons of joining in things that you should stay away and out of. Just be a good person, a law-abiding citizen and then nothing will happen to you.

Well, I tried and that ended up with a two murders and a gruesome torture. When you try to run away from it, it comes back to haunt you. Every little thing that you have done wrong in that time comes back to haunt you until you kill yourself or you go back and start the process over again. Anger, Kill, Blank Out, Laugh, KILL. That's how my life has been going since the year that I finished school. The moment that I got out of my mother reach and the moment that I was free to act for myself I made the ultimate mistake. I joined. I joined to kill the ones that were better that me. They were fighting for the right goal. The bright side. But I was stuck fighting against the good and there was nothing I could do about it.

I guess not matter how hard you try; you will always be the child of your parents. You can say that there would be no way in the world that you would do anything that your parents ever did, but in the end, they raised you. They raised you on certain beliefs that have been etched on to your brain since the moment you were born into this tragic world. The fact stands as is; the people around you do influence you, usually the wrong way and when that one special person tries to show you the little light, you dismiss that person, even kill her.

Her death still lies heavy on my brain, heart and soul. It is slowly eating away at my insides, torturing me and not letting me die until I feel the total pain the I caused to the world, but I keep killing and that pain keep growing, eating me away slowly but surely. Death after death, murder after murder, body after body, killing my soul but letting my body live on empty, without meaning, just to keep on bringing death and terrible destruction to innocent people's lives. That is who I am. I have no sense of me anymore. I am an empty body that is still alive because of karma coming back to haunt me. Every person haunts me in my sleep and during the time that I walk. The waking hours of the day, for me, are just as the ones were I sleep, except for the killing because at night, those deaths come back and haunt me and try to take away more of my soul. Slowly suffocating me and murdering me in my sleep letting me live only by a hair just to make to get up in the morning to start this process over again.

People tried to help me, but I killed them, killed every single one. I am alone in this world. I stand alone and kill alone. The world has turned its back on me and with that god has turned the backs of every living thing against me. So I kill. Never proudly anymore, never with a look of triumph but always with that same blank look on my face, the once that say I don't give a shit. That is what I am. An empty being unable to die. And oh I have tried to kill myself and always something has stopped me. It did not work and I was taken to the hospital or somebody found out or was watching me and I had to kill them instead. I wallow in my misery because there is no one who can show me the light, and when a person comes along who is willing to help and even tries, I kill them.

It is impossible to escape the constant circle of killing because once you enter you are stuck for good. I never tried to escape but I watched the ones who were brave enough to try. They were killed. Although I am not afraid of death and I want to die, I do not wish to die at my allies' hands. Why won't the ones that fight for the people I killed come and kill me. Or even come ad rescue a tortured soul. More of a tortured body with no soul left. They refuse to help because I am the one who killed their loved ones and I understand why. I do not blame them. I killed the ones who were willing so that it is all my fault.

When you live a life like mine, you lose sight in what is important to you and then you are lost forever. You would never believe that I was once a carefree young man. Yes, I still had my enemies but I was alive and youthful. That did not last long. By the time I was fifteen I was already in a tricky position, forced to follow in my father footsteps. His shoes were not my fit but I followed because it was either follow or get disowned and live with no money at the age of fifteen. My parents would not take that. They would not let me disgrace them or our name. My parents were a pitiful pair, leaning on each other but knocking everything else over. They only cared for themselves because that is what they knew. That is the life that they had chosen to lead. Their parents let them choose. I was forced into the wrong crowd, pushed in the wrong direction and that was the end of my so-called childhood.

You know those people that when you seem them you try not to look at them but out of the corner of your eye you stare and keep a firm face like you don't want them to notice. I am the person being stared at. I would be in prison if it were not for my damn karma. It keeps me alive on purpose just to torture me so more. I live on pure hate. I live on the knowledge that someday I will die and someday it will all be over. People say I live to kill. The people who don't really know me. But then again no one knows me. I am the ghost that everyone fears. I am like the angel of death without the protection of god. So it would seem that I am alone in this world.