Haven't posted in almost two years, but found this saved as a draft - obviously year 11 pressure was getting to me!
The voices surround me, some screaming, some whispering, but all out to destroy me. Individual words are like the claws of some rabid beast, ripping into me and leaving me bleeding. I cover my ears in an attempt to block out the noise, but anguish this strong cannot be ignored.
These are the voices of the souls of the dead. Not just any dead, but those that died for me, because of me. Those who believed that I was strong enough to save them. I should have been. They were my people, it was my duty, and still I failed. I walked amongst them as they lay dying. My heart urged me to do something, anything, to end their suffering, but by then it was too late.
