The greatest sacrifice is acceptance final

I had become beyond terrified of going back after that day. The idea of leaving the paradise I made made me terrified. Soon after, though, id realized my anemia had caught up to me.

I woke once more in the lush, toasty room, with the sweet, intoxicating voice of my mother woke me. It had been my final year of high school at that time, and it made me worry about what was truly to come next. I knew I must leave one day, but instead of actually facing that fact, I lived and ignored that fact. I had woken up with a glaring headache that had done nothing but push pain deep in my head. This had been a normal thing, though. So what do I do well, take 5 different headcae pills and ignore it like all my other problems. 

I had rubbed my eyes soon after awaking, seeing the glaring emptiness of life around me. Seeing nothing harmed my head increasingly over the years and made me extremely susceptible to dizziness and other inconveniences. With the loss of the room, memories of it also slipped; I could no longer remember how it started or even why I continued it, but I ignored it like everything else and stumbled to the door. Stumbling over someone's shirt and pants, I reached down after hearing the crumpling of paper, finding a 20 on the ground 

“Hell yeah, score, so buying something good before class,” I said to myself 

“What was that, sweetie?” My mom chipped back to me 

“Nothing, Mom just found some cash, was all,” I said as I left my room 

I had gotten home after a long day and luckily had the day off, so I had some free time after school. And went to the park for the day. Watching people around and living until I spotted an older man alone on a bench with one hand in his pocket and the other on the bench. Just watching the playground. The night had become dark as the last of the kids had left, soon to see the man follow one closely behind. As he neared the corner street, though, following two young boys, a rag had been put over their faces. Slowly smoothing as unconsciousness slowly crept into his cold, dead eyes. The two boys had walked out of view as he fell into my arms. 

The man's arms hit the door letting a loud thud. Alerting my mother.

“Oh, are you okay, sweerty?” Her sweet voice rang throughout the house from the next room over

“Yeah, Mom, it's okay, I'm just taking some trash out.” 

“Oh, do you need any help?” she spoke back

“Naw, it's okay, I got it tonight.”

The man's body hung near lifeless on the small table in my room as I tied him down and shoved more Narcanes into his nostrils to keep him unconscious as long as possible. I let the blade slide from the top of his wrist down to his elbow as he awoke from the sudden amount of pain he must have felt. He was too far intoxicated by this point to put up any struggle, really; the knots had barely been tied down, from my laziness and the blaring pain I had from being in my room. Soon, though his body stopped fighting, he had given what was needed. 

I used to try to justify myself by lying, saying I was doing this for the betterment of people and that I just happened to gain from it too. It started small, as all addictions do, by “Controlling the wildlife”  like stray cats, birds, squirrels, whatever fell in my small vicinity, and I don't even remember how it grew from that, but it did, and I just wish I had the strength to fight back. 

Weeks turned into months, months into years, and soon enough, I had been 4 years deep and felt trapped. The life I gained that I selfishly got now feels like a prison. I had no clue what I’d do without it now. I have no idea whom I might become or what I'll become.  The nightmares of life I've lived and the life I've come to grow into have filled my mind each night.  Everything had been stripped from me, and I lost the family I had, but without knowing, I didn't know what I was to get in return. I knew I had to pay and undo what I've done to make me into the monster I was inside and out, was the only way I thought to be right. 

I woke like every other day pounding headache ache unable to see shit, like my vision had been done or like my eyes had been missing for my whole life.  I stumbled around, knocking a few unseen things over as I moved around under my bed. Feeling around, I finally found the book I looked for. It had been the only book actually under there. I had just assumed I didn't like reading normally, but the strangest part I remembered the book and how it felt. Out of everything that was something kept in my mind. 

I made it from my room and went to the living room, and sat down in the near-silent house. My parents had left for the day for work.  I opened the book to the bookmark still placed and looked through the old pages.  Reading through, I'd been worried being I could read through. The words weren't in English, but I had no clue if I ever knew how to read them. The feeling of sickness overcame me each time I tried to read it, each time nothing happened. I got a notification that my mother left work early. Same with my father. They had been about 30 minutes to an hour away, being their jobs were far, but even with the allotted time, my nerves were on edge. After another 15 minutes, something happened. I blacked out, but I knew i was blacked out, so i actually wasn't? Still today, I've never felt like this again and wish not to.  A towering figure fell over me. Standing, or at least what I could only assume as standing, it towered over me, the world, and everything. It said nothing, so I broke the silence. 

“I want to stop this, I want to end it. Please, I beg you to.” My voice was harsh and quiet as I spoke, or at least I believe I spoke. There was nothing, though no response to me. 

“I'll pay anything, please, I wish to just go back, or at least let them too.” Tears started to form, or the feeling of tears did. Nothing has responded yet. 

“I don't know what they did to deserve this, but I know this is not a fate anyone should face. Please give them back.” I felt anger building through the sadness until the soft, nurturing voice spoke. 

“My dear, you have put us through unimaginable pain, and nothing you may do will or can stop it. And for that, I'll never forgive you, still though you're my child. The only pain I wish on you is regret and acceptance. Please go on.” I tried to speak back, but I was unable until the door flew open. 

I had been on the coach as my two parents came in screaming incomprehensible words of no deciding meanings. They fell to the floor, screaming still. Their skin boiled and hissed and popped as they lay there rolling. Reaching their hands out for help as I stood there immovable.  They started to grow cysts, green goo flowing out of them as the bones started to break. Healing the snapping of those sounds like firecrackers. Even after their mouths' skin flowed off and was replaced with slimy maggots, their screams persisted as they begged for something I could never understand. I stood there for a good long while just listening the the slimy bones breaking and reforming until there were only remains of a human that could be possible in fiction. It took me longer than I wish to admit to call 911, and even then, I couldn't speak. 

After a while, the crout had decided there was nothing that I did. It wasn't even brought to court. They only said that my parents had a stroke, and I went into shock and had made this all up in my mind. I know it's not true because I have my memories back, if not better than before. I feel endless guilt today knowing I'll never be able to pay for my actions. I tried several times to do something with my life, but the bottle is the only thing I seek peace in now. I wish for death, but I know it would only be worse. The only way I can feel anything back to them is to live out the pain and endure it. Even if I won't pay now, I'll never be a good person to anyone. Life has been a shit show forever for me and everyone else, but the only difference is that I don't deserve sympathy or any form of peace. My own self-loathing is a form of that, though. To type this is my own gain, and I feel disgusted by myself.