The mist reminded me of numerous ghosts, with the silence to fulfill the suspense. The silver smooth clouds evened out the mood of the atmosphere, while the light rain brought peace to the neighborhood. I am the only one outside resting on my comfortable chair on my front porch; everyone else seems to stay inside. Who is to say someone cannot be fond of weather such as this? As for me, these conditions are perfect for retribution to my victims. After all, the unfair punishment inflicted upon me in my abusive childhood made me realize that everyone’s life is as meaningless as mine.

I never deserved any of it, which built up rage, hatred, and grudges. No one believed me because of my physical attributes, which begat mocking and taunting. Oh how I hated them. How I used to take my frustration out on my parents, which was my first mistake. All the guilt ate me alive as my exasperation of all the negative comments flashing out in my head built me up, what did I become?

Nothing was wrong with me. Faults I did not attain. Nothing afflicted or harassed me. Emotions I controlled. My mind they could not enter, and my feelings they could not change. No words hurt me.

Every time the rain falls down, my childhood comes to mind. Almost everyday it rains. The tears slithered down my cheek for every insult that came upon me. Then those tears produced more and more every time I started to acknowledge the truth.

When I graduated college, I graduated with no companions, not one. Predicaments and dilemmas caused solitude, and getting used to that, depressingly, I learned gradually. No one I could share my feelings with and no one to just talk to. The only help I received from everyone contributed to feeling worse.

My psychology teacher back in college educated me to relieve my misery by writing my burdens on a sheet of paper and burying it. Thinking the exercise would work, I attempted to practice the idea in the park a quarter of a mile away from here, but the anxiety overwhelmed me that someone might find it because the ground looked out of place, so I removed the paper and cut it in precise amounts of four pieces and hid it in my house for comfort and security. I checked on that spot five times a day to ensure and confirm it was there in that one specific spot. The spot I accurately placed it, if anyone moved it from that spot, I would not know how to continue living life normally.


As the weather seemed to clear slightly, I decided to go for a walk in the park to clear my mind of things. The minor breeze dried my tears and healed my runny nose. I examined closely at the sky. The sun’s outline I saw, with transparent sunbeams shining through the dark clouds. With me the shovel, I equipped for the security of defense. Who knew what crazy person might desire to murder me? I chuckled to myself, knowing in my head that this occasion might happen. Other thoughts such as shrieking voices of pain and suffering jumped out at me from past actions of murders and dragging corpses in this park. The influences of activities such as those even affected ordinary people who live around here. This park used to be so dangerous, no one attended there anymore. It was one of the most vacant places in the whole town.

Nothing was wrong with me. Faults I did not attain. Nothing afflicted or harassed me. Emotions I controlled. My mind they could not enter, and my feelings they could not change. No words hurt me.

Unfortunately, the cause of one outlaw emptied this park’s excitement and brought dullness and monotony. The trees with no leaves prohibited life’s nature and beauty to rot. Maggots filled the litter bins and vultures circled corpses. The dirt pathways confused many, leading people in circles. All the dehydrated grass died, giving off that light yellow color. Overall, the park looked like a catastrophe’s aftermath.

Transfixed I was when my eyes gazed on an old friend of mine. I technically do not address him as a friend anymore, a loser I address him to. The loser scorned me everyday as a kid. Oh how I hated him! How he used to make me cry with just his words. He was what I remembered most about my childhood. Tell you, I will, he will be punished and his destination belongs and rightfully will suffer.

Even though he mocked me, I still thought nothing was wrong with me. Faults I did not attain. Nothing afflicted or harassed me. Emotions I controlled. My mind he could not enter, and my feelings he could not change. No words hurt me.

As I entered the park, strong sense feelings came over me. Confident, I felt to expect the unexpected. My senses tingled and sparking, but my nonchalant face brought dullness and carelessness. My indifferent and apathetic appearance consumed the fact that I looked oblivious and naive, but the inner self of me felt like a fiend.

“Hello!” he said to me in an amiable tone.

“Why are you talking to me? You hate me,” I replied tenderly.

“What? Where did that come from?”

“Suppose the way you treated me when I was a kid reflected the way you display friendship?”

He grinned then said, “You have to lighten up a little. I was just messing with you. Besides, it is the past now. The best thing you can do is move on right?”

Rage formulated such anger, my body started to shake. My mind took control of me, and my emotions exploded internally. My physical state stayed the same, still and peaceful, but my inner being flamed with fury. Kindly and calmly replied I, “Yes, I guess so.”

He chuckled and we continued walking on the dirt trails making small talk, sharing stories and legends of this park. All of a sudden, fear gripped him tightly because of his loss of direction. He hesitated, “Do you know where we are going?” I murmured, “Yes, know the way I do,” Blindly he followed, continuing to discuss his exciting story of the outlaw who caused mass destruction in this park.

Listening was all I did, until we encountered a vacant section of the park. The multitude of trees faded the environment. This small vacant area appeared completely surrounded by tall bushes and raining dead leaves. The wind began to pick up, and the night conquered the dawn.

I stopped him and he uncomfortably told me, “Shouldn’t we be getting home now?”

Wrathfully and with force I told him, “My psychology teacher back in college once educated me to relieve my misery by writing my burdens on a sheet of paper and burying it.”

He inquired what I was talking about, but I interrupted him, “The unfair punishment inflicted upon me in my abusive childhood made me realize that your life is just as meaningless as mine. Nothing is wrong with me. Faults I do not attain. Nothing afflicts or harasses me. Emotions I control. My mind you cannot enter, and my feelings you cannot change. Your words do not hurt me. Tell you, I will, you will be punished because you are grouped as one of the damned. Your destination belongs and rightfully you will suffer.”

As swiftly as I winded my shovel was as swiftly as he screamed. Before he could even turn around and run like a fugitive, struck him I did and he died instantly. Digging the hole my mind constantly reminded me the action I just executed was justified. Properly I divided his corpse into precise amounts of four and threw him into the hole. On a piece of paper I wrote: my name, “Xavier Smith”, and his name, “Bryce Bosley”, who I labeled as my burden, and tossed it in the hole as well. Anxiously, I checked on that spot five times a day to ensure and confirm it was there in that one specific spot because of the difference it was between that spot and the rest of the ground. The spot I accurately placed it, if anyone moved it from that spot, I would not know how to continue living life normally.