I can Breathe in Peace

I can breathe in Peace

        When a heart is cold and the mind is lost, all that is good seems to disappear. It's a truth I had to learn before I understood what it meant. Upon the travels in my head, in a desperate search for freedom in a land of liberty, I realise more then ever that all I ever needed was someone who loved me. But I was blind. I couldn't see where the problem truly lay. My parents never liked me as a child, nor adult. My father left the side of his wife when I could barely speak. My mother was a dirty drug addict and couldn't stay on the ground. She was always too high to care. It was terrifying for me to live through. I have more bruises and bumps then a wrestler fighting for the world championship. I'm pretty sure this mark on my left hand is a spot where I should've had stitches. But of course I've never been properly treated. That would've been my mother showing love and being sane for a few hours. She never supported me. I was a student of life. Experience was my teacher. Even if my mother always slapped me every time I said I could do something, and told me to give up.

        My friends; what am I talking about? I never had friends, only traitors. They would bring me along to cause trouble, but always ducked out when the time for punishment came. This is a cruel world I live in. It's been around since the beginning of time. Sometimes I wish it could just go away. There was nothing that could change it. But I could never change. Instead, I carried out those evil deeds on my own, this time leaving the victims behind to take punishment, my punishment. Why did I punish them? They were happy in a dark world where there was nothing to be happy about. All I knew is that I couldn't breathe with out being hunted.

       I marched into a store today, fully intending on laying down proper justice to everyone who smiled. There was quite a bit of people here this time. I pulled out my gun and took a shot at the ceiling. Then I pointed it at some people, leaving them a blank stare. For every person of whom I shot, I took ten thousand dollars from the store safe. I ran out of the store with thirty grand in total. The cops attempt to catch me again in their own, pathetic way. It was humiliating for me, having these fat people being the only idiots who would even dare come near me. I spat in their faces and fled the scene. So many thoughts came to me as I rushed off. I've felt them all before and have learned to ignore them. And even though the grey skies were enough to put someone down, I looked towards them. They were my escape. These cops chasing me couldn't understand. All they wanted to do was lock me up in an attempt to strike fear in me. Don't they know I would just get angry?

      I made it back home without anyone seeing me. I took my findings, my proof of killing, and hid it under my own bed. I sat alone in my bloodstained apartment. I was always by myself, and I wasn't someone to be alone with. I could feel the eyes off every soul I took watching me. I knew that every time I pulled the trigger, I was cutting my own lifelines. The cash did motivate me, it was reason. It was the feeling I get knowing that I helped make some people realise that there is no such thing as good without evil. I taught them that we need evil to make us grow.

      Running from evil, the cops who marched for happiness, was getting old, but I needed some way to pay the rent. Didn't matter who fell in blood for it to happen, we're all just animals in our urban jungle fighting for survival. Those who fought stayed

      My mother, for the first time, came in through my door. She came up to me, staring over my shoulder as I counted my reward. She knew she treated me bad. My mother, so old, spoke to me and said she was sorry. I dropped everything. I perked up, but did not turn over. Memories of the past flooded in my head. My scar began to pour blood.  Her now gentle touch wrapped around my cold hand, easing the pain and showing love at last. My father whom I could hardly remember wrapped his own hand around hers. At long last, I finally felt like I could breathe in peace. We were a family, something I never knew. They believed in me. It was a good feeling. I fell in love with the air coursing through my lungs. My family believed in me.

        Over the next year, I was different. I spent some time with my parents, making up for all those many years of distance between us. I eventually got a job and a wife, now that my mother would encourage me. I moved in with my loved one and raised two beautiful children. I gave them my undying love, like I did my wonderful wife. I started to right my wrongs. To do this, I went back to the store. I gave the storeowner, the same one from all those years ago, one hundred thousand dollars for every soul I released into heaven, for every body that turned white and red. He accepted the money, but told me that I should turn myself in and that nothing could ever make up for the loss. He also said I should apologize to the families, and offered their names. But before he could, a blind man walked in. He made the same mistake I did years ago, and now my punishment came.

        In the end, during those last few seconds of breath, I looked back on my life. I realized that all I needed was for someone to believe in me, to love me. Because of their belief and love, everything changed for the best. But it was only now that I truly understood, that sometimes having one person who believes in you can make all the difference.  I wasn't dying in shame, I died with pride. My parents believed in me, I believed in my wife and children and I hoped they would continue to believe in me. I stopped but could, breathe in peace.

-The End-