Myself Explained

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Myself Explained All types of events can change you, though how they change you varies. There was one event that changed my life forever. The way that I saw the world and all of the creatures in it was changed forever. -Flashback- “Honey, it’s time to go to bed,” called my mother. My seven-year-old self scampered out of the bathroom, intent on escaping the dreaded bedtime that my mother was intent on enforcing. No matter how adamant I made my pleas though, I was still sent to bed at 8:00, and not a minute later. “Don’t forget to say your prayers either,” echoed down the hall to my retreating form. Turning my head to look back at her bedroom, and after making sure that I was out of sight, I made a face before continuing to my room. As I stepped through the threshold onto the soft carpet that made up my floor, I looked around before latching my eyes onto my cat, Smoky, whom was sound asleep on top of my bed. Love filled me as I gazed at his silent form, only disturbed by the slow up and down movement caused by his gentle breathing. In the dark I couldn’t quite make out his colors or patterns, though I knew from having him around so long that his fur was a clean white, with a few speckles of gray. Thinking back to my mother’s earlier request for me to pray, I decided that I would give it a try. Maybe it was my soft side, or maybe it was from a higher calling, I don’t know, but something told me to do something for my little cat. I took a deep breath and let it out through my open lips as I kneeled down at the foot of my bed. “Dear lord,” I whispered, “please keep Smoky healthy in his old age, and keep him safe. I know that I don’t ask much of you, though could you please do this. Amen.” I stayed down in the floor for a few more m... ... middle of paper ... ...left a huge scar on my person, teaching me that I could never trust or believe in him, nor his message. To this day, I have never prayed again. I feel that if I do, something bad will happen in return, though what I don’t know. I don’t associate with any religion, because of this. The feeling of not belonging just consumes me and prevents me from participating in any religious activities or ceremonies. My family doesn’t know though, because I know that they would never understand my reasoning for not having a religion. They don’t know the pain that I went through loosing Smoky, nor the numbness that I lived through afterwards. To them, I’d just be going through a rebellious stage, though I’ve lived like this my whole life. What they might consider a split-second decision to be different, I see as a life long consequence for something that happened in my childhood.

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