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.norton campell.

           I can never look at myself in the mirror. My disgusting scars bring me back to my nightmares. Sometimes I can faintly remember the feeling of my skin burning around my eye. I remember the faces of my friends showing blood and bone. I remember the smell. The goddamn smell. My throat burns in the mere thought of inhaling that smoke. Every day, I am reminded of the incident; the ringing in my ears is a constant reminder of the impact of the explosion and the screams of my friends.

            I may have not meant it, but at the end of the day I killed everyone off like flies. It's excruciating to wake up with the weight of that on my shoulders. My heart longs for it to stop beating. So why, of all people, did I live on? I am the least worthy out of everyone else. Is it He that is punishing me? For the sins I have committed? Waking up in a cold sweat, dreaming of blood on my hands, it's emotionally and mentally draining.

            To be honest, I have never believed in any kind of god. But with losing my will to live, it was my last hope. I went to the gravekeeper. Andrew Kreiss. He was the only one I could go to. Not only because he was the only one I knew who believed in God, but because when I asked for advice, he didn't look at me odd or ask me why. He simply showed me the ways of praying and some principles. Kreiss was kind enough to lend me items to help. He told me, "May the peace and love of God and the fellowship of the holy spirit be forever your eternal blessing in this world and the next" while giving me the Christian Bible along with a cross necklace. Bless that man, he gave me some sort of hope that I could live a better life...

            After that encounter, I read that bible every night when I had the chance. With my knees planted on the ground I sent proper prayers. The cross was always kept tightly between my clasped hands. Yet, even after my efforts, it was proven that I could not attain peace from above. My sleepless nights continued and I soon gave up hope. If God doesn't give me grace, who will? What will? This is my punishment; to live my horror over and over.

       I am a monster.