A Personal Essay: The Aspect of Loneliness
I have to write this essay to reflect a specific aspect of myself and how I came to be that way. To explain myself in a three page paper is more than just impossible, it's ridiculous. However, for a good grade in this English class I will have to attempt this daunting task to continue forward with my degree. I warn the readers though: I am not the happiest of creatures and my life as been... a hodgepodge, to say the least. If you read straight through the whole story, no jumping or skipping around, then you might find some joy out of the ending... but maybe you'll come to find out that life isn't about fairy tales and happy endings, but a continuation of guilt, or depression and the never ending ache of trying to achieve something greater.
In this essay we were to choose one aspect about ourselves and describe how we became that way. I scoff at this challenge; no one can simply explain a hole characteristic, it's too complex and the wholeness of the aspect is from a continuation of the person... then again this is just a composition essay, not a psychology essay. So I decided to choose my major characteristic and explain how I became that way: Lonely.
It starts back when I was around five years of age. Living with my mother in Australia was my Eden. Every morning she would make me up with breakfast waiting for my devour. We would walk around the outback and explore all the wild and untamed life the desert had to offer. She would warn me about getting to far away from her, but I wanted some time to myself.
So one afternoon I crept off by myself and went into some brush nearby. I started on a personal expedition around the area; searching for hidden treasures and new life I felt like I was on my own. Then I heard my mother screaming out my name in search of me.
“Where did you go?!” The panic in her voice stung a little, but I remained quiet and still. “Where did you go?! Please I can't loose you! Oh God!” I couldn't bare her terrified voice any longer. I jumped out of the brush revealing myself to her as I said,
“I'm right here, mom.” She gasped in relief and embraced me tightly. I hugged her back; the warmth of her body, the softness of her skin... it was the last time I was able to touch her.
“Don't you scare me like that! I was so worried about you, oh my baby boy!” She said as she swung me in her arms like a rag-doll. I comforted her and we went on with the rest of our day; dinner, washed up, and later we sat and watched the stars. She pointed to the moon and told me whenever I look at that moon, she too is looking at it and therefore is watching over me. We awed at the moon for hours until the weight of our eyelids shut themselves and we fell asleep.
The next day while we were out walking we heard an extremely strange sound. It sounded like continuous thunder, with the pitch getting higher, rolling towards us. My mother and I turned as we saw three jeeps racing at us. They zoomed past and toward a group of Kangaskhan, a popular type of Pokemon around where I live, and skidded to a stop. The started Pokemon turned and started to flee, but the people inside the jeeps ran out and dashed after them. One man, bulky and dog-faced, stepped out last from the drivers' seat and threw a Pokeball. It opened and out materializing into a giant fire dragon Pokemon: Charizard. He was the obvious leader of the pack of poachers
The men harassed the slow moving giants and stabbed them with spears tied to rope. They ran around hollering in malevolent joy; disturbing and horrifying to watch people take so much pleasure from spilling the blood of a creature. As Kangaskhan screamed and moaned in pain my mother leaped into action.
“No!” She cried out as she lunged forward throwing her first into one of the poachers face. His head jolted back and he landed with a thud; he was knocked out of conscientious. I took a meekly step forward to help, but my mother caught it with her eye and yelled at me to stay at a safe distance as she continued her rampage. I hid behind a bush as she went back to the pummeling.
She swung at another man, but he ducked and her fist went over his head. She responded quickly with a sharp kick to his gut. He had been too slow that time and fell to the ground withering in pain. My mother turned to face three poachers ambushing her, and unfortunately this time she was one being too slow. They grabbed her and tied her up as the attempted to thrash out again. I grasped my hands together hoping that they would leave her and I could untie her, but the dog-faced leader guffawed and said,
“So this 'ere Missy tried to show us what's wha'? Well, 'ow 'bout we go on our merry lit'le way and use 'er as an example of wha' 'appends when you get in our way, eh?” The conscious poachers yelled out in amen, cheering the boss on as he turned toward his Charizard and smirked. Then as heartless as he could he commanded,
“Charizard, use Flamethrower.” Before my mother could even plead, the wicked beast elongated its neck and opened its ferocious mouth. It let out an intense stream of fire that came over my mother's body; covering her torso and face like stormy waves inundated rocks at a barge.
She shrieked out in trifling pain. Her epidermis peeled and turned to ash as her blood boiled under the hellacious heat. Her shouts twisted in the vehement pain and distorted with the bellowing of the flames. I did nothing as I watched my mother burn alive in front of me; my heart did not beat because it was paralyzed with the terror that flushed over my once innocent mind. I watched silently and hopelessly as my mother suffered in the destructive conflagration.
A charred silhouette of a once wonderful and loving mother was imprinted on the ground in charcoaled flesh. The Charizard had ceased its attack and was returned into its Pokeball. The events around me slipped through time as I simply ignored them; my eyes fixated on the remains of my mother. The poachers gathered their victims and left me alone... with my mother.
Malice as my only companion left, yet I shed a tear, for the hate that surged through my body was instantly overtaken by loneliness. I had no one to bath me anymore, or to put me to bed, or even wake and embrace me. There will be no other and the time we had was too short.
I do beg, however, to not feel bad for me. Reader, hark, do not feel pity for me, for the loss of my mother, no, instead give empathy to my immortal soul. It is not that I have no mother from here on out, but is the reality that I witnessed the event and will never be able to live another second without reliving those moments. Those moments do not leave you when you pass on, they will be weighted upon my shoulders for eternity and it is more that reason I stay alone; no one shall bare the burden of that day other than helpless me and the man who carried out such gruesome act.
After that day I spent many nights crying to the moon, hoping my mother would be watching over me from the beyond. I had to scrounge around for food and water on my own, but never strayed too far away from my mother's corpse. I became self reliant and lonely, and I wanted to stay that way. Years of self torment and guilt was opening the gash in my heart... if I had a heart. I felt like since I did nothing to help my mother I didn't actually love her, or that my wanting to be alone the day before manifested into a malicious wish that came true. I teetered on the thought of suicide and imagined many times of how I would do it; it would have to justify my sins of not helping and dirty wishing. Every time I tried I would well up with tears and end up sniveling at the torso of my mothers black skeleton.
One night as I slept next to my deceased mother I had a dream. Her face was being visualized on the moon and she spoke to me,
“Son,” she said softly. Her voice as comforting as it had always been; her face was sweet with a smile and accompanied with wrinkles. “you must go on and live a life without guilt. I know it will be hard, but I am always watching over you.” I was again paralyzed, but not with terror, paralyzed with joy. She shed a tear and said,
“I will always love you.”
Her tear fell onto my face. I could feel the cool droplet slither down my face, conjoining with my own salty tears. I woke up to the beginning of a rain cloud letting it first droplets fly into the night sky. I looked up through the rain and past the clouds and saw the moon, shining down on me, watching over me. I grabbed one of my mothers bones, and her skull for arcane reasons; relics of a martyr in paradise. I long for her, but continued to live a life of loneliness and sorrow and will continue until I am put to rest.
That is why I am lonely; esoteric to some, irksome to others I guarantee you this vexatious period in my life had an enormous effect on me. It is the reasoning behind my loneliness. The fact that the man who did this horrendous atrocity is still alive somewhere exasperates my malignance for the odium psychopath.
I hope that one day I will gather enough courage and strength to track down that poacher and eliminate him from existence with haste. However, I intend to make sure his departure from life will not go without the same excruciating pain my mother had felt that day; I will have my revenge and scorn those who oppose me. I will purge the inhumane of the Earth with scourge and my victory will be the blood spilled from his body. However, I will continue to remain alone and in mourning until I gather such power, then I will be able to pursue my divine path of vengeance.
Ready for Grading