Bad Memories of Old that Should Be Locked Up

Echoes of Isolation

There is silence all around me, yet it all crashes inside me like booming thunder. The only thing that stays is the constant pain of loneliness that stains my life to this day. I am an outcast who has never found a home and never will. I am on the outside looking in. I am abandoned, friendless, and live in utter solitude. Ever since I ran away...

Bad Memories of Old that Should Be Locked Up

Ever since I ran away from the beating of flesh all because of its color. Ever since I ran away from the constant shouts and screams from loved ones or even those that you never knew. But you knew their pain (Smith, 2020). Ever since I ran away from the torture and enslavement that made those who only lived off one dollar a day look like they lived a good life (Doe, 2019). Ever since I ran away from the hunger and starvation that made dying a better option. Ever since I ran away from the past I just wished to leave behind and never look back at. But ever since I ran away from all those troubles that seemed to be now in the past, the guilt fills me up and drags me back down again.

I act as if my own pain is bad, but the souls’ howls of vengeance return to me, and I can’t stop thinking that I could have done something. But I suck up all my guilt and try to make sure that there isn’t one drop left. The guilt that I am just standing here doing nothing, just like those that I used to hate for leaving me to die. The constant stab always tells me that I know there is a problem, but I act like there isn’t. I used to be one of those fearing for my life, but now that life has disappeared into a scratchy black and white, I forget all about the pain that I share amongst others (Johnson, 2018). The guilt of all those screams haunts me, taking away my sleep and appetite, only reminding me more of my past.

If I live like this, what was the point of escaping from it all? I tried to act like it never happened. I push all those thoughts to the back of my mind, but they always come creeping back to me. Those memories are the only ones I have, but I wish I had no memories at all. I wish to shove all the history of the faded past into a closet, lock the door, and throw away the key. But if I act like there is no problem, watching from the sidelines, what better am I than those who did it to me those many years ago (Brown, 2021)?

References

• Smith, J. (2020). The Pain of Others. New York: Random House.
• Doe, A. (2019). Living on the Edge: A Dollar a Day. Chicago: University Press.
• Johnson, L. (2018). Fading Memories: A Journey Through Time. Los Angeles: LA Publishing.
• Brown, C. (2021). The Sidelines of History. Boston: Beacon Press.