Terror's Agony

Jack Ridley has fought off his fear by striking it into the heart's of others, but nothing scares him more than the putrid stench of terror that clings to the air like a lifeline whenever he lets his wrath run wild.

The steady burn of his cigarette isn't the only thing that could go up in flames.
A fire has started within him so monstrous that not even the devil on Jack's shoulder can reap what he sows.

How do you fight your fears when the only thing left to fear is yourself?

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12. Chapter 2-Love's Agony

I'm Dean Holster, and I'm waiting, for what I don't know. Its going to be some type of sign, some type of reason signifying the grave importance that fear has on a seemingly normal person like me. But I'm done waiting, believing that it will ever come, so I will discuss... Love instead.

Where does my limited amount of happiness and love come from? Is it the same place as your fear? As your anger? God didn't have the decency to separate such colossal differences from each other in the already close space within your head? when I think of it this way, why does the happiness in your life choose to stay when it is constantly tormented by the unrelenting paranoia that lives right next door, fighting for room in the same cramped and close-minded head.

I love my mother, I love my father, and I still love my sister even though some would say I was the one who killed her, but as you know from my last chapter, that wasn't me. He doesn't love her, but he loves my pain. That's exactly why he has now moved from my head to my heart, because oddly enough, only true pain can come from the ones you love.

To be totally honest with you, I don't want to keep writing about my fear. I've told you everything already, I've shared my thoughts, my feelings, my situation, what else could you possibly want to know? If I continue to share with you, I will no longer be scraping at the surface, and I don't want you to think ill of me. My political views about global warming are nothing compared to what flashes through my mind every time I see something that could so easily be destroyed, like a human life, but I don't want you to see me that way. I want to hide behind the words you so easily read, I want to give you a story that you wouldn't be embarrassed to be seen reading. I'm not like that, I don't want your pity, I don't do this for pity.

When you pity someone, you imagine yourself in their place, and it makes you feel bad for them, you feel only a fraction of their shame as you watch them struggle. I don't want anyone to feel that shame when they read this, I don't want anyone to feel my shame. I am unhappy, but just know that there's absolutely nothing you can do about it. A damaged soul can never heal, what's lost is lost.

I'm too aware of the problems with my unbelievably bizarre thoughts, and I can't help but think that there's hope for me, but as it turns out, that's how I know I still have a bit of soul that he has left intact. I still have hope of freeing myself from he who shall not be named, the same he who owns my mind and abandons my thoughts when they reach the point of my guilt when I realize he's no longer the one directing the thought, I am. The moment I realize that I'm the one thinking about how I should kill myself as an oncoming car passes by my street only makes me want to go through with it, but that's what he wants, and I will not give in. I refuse to let him win my life, he will not hold me hostage in the burning fire of eternity. That's why I choose love, that's why I choose to believe that the love I share with my family will get me through it, get me through him.

But here's the kicker, I can't have both, I can't choose to love my family with all my heart and hate him at the same time. I use my heart to hate, and he doesn't deserve my love.

The heart holds every emotion, whether it's joy, pain, rage, or love because every emotion is born from love, whether that be love for yourself, your family, or the god that lets you live to love another day.

So how am I supposed to balance my rage, and contain my wrath, while still showing my family the love that they deserve? It's impossible, therefore I will never become the person I truly want to be, and like you, I once again have an unreachable goal. The person I want to become will never exist on this earth as long as I live, because my fear will always stand in the way and there's nothing either one of us can do about it.

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