Confession

Confession
By: Kristian Gore

So what would you like to hear? Do you want to know why? I don’t think you could understand why. Maybe I should tell you how many? I couldn’t begin to tell you that. Why not ask an alcoholic how many times he’s been drunk? I suppose I could start from the beginning but what is the beginning? When I was born? The first time I felt the life drain from another living thing?

I guess a good place to start would be my own childhood. I was bathed in hate, and I grew to love it. I won’t bore you with details but it was something that fueled my hatred of life. I enjoyed bullying the other kids but it was never enough. I needed to inflict more suffering. Finally I was able to get the rush I needed, I was able to feel the life drain from another living thing.

Lost

Lost

By: Kristian Gore

            It was starting to get dark and Jeff realized he had miscalculated the distance to the camp site. He had gone in as straight a line as possible but he realized he had let his mind wander too much. He figured he must have past wide to the left or right of the camp site when he tried to get back to Trish. It was supposed to be a walk meant to cool down after an argument but he now regretted doing that and wished he had just stayed with her at the camp site.

            Nothing was looking familiar now so he changed direction again in an attempt to find her without calling out and admitting he was lost but as the last rays of the sun disappeared behind the horizon he started to panic. Finally he called out to her and waited a few minutes to listen for her voice. The silence was eerie. Jeff realized something was wrong but he didn’t know what it was so he called out her name again louder this time and waited once more for a response.

Darkness

Darkness

By: Kristian Gore

He sat alone in the empty house. He hated being alone but he didn’t know how not to be, so he sat and watched TV. He wasn’t really watching it was just noise to keep the silence at bay. Silence would be too much to take and he knew silence would lead to despair for it is one thing to be alone and another to feel alone. He needed the noise if for no other reason than to trick himself into not feeling lonely.

It had been four months since she left and part of him just didn’t want to continue playing the daily game of pretending he was OK. In the end he knew it was for the best. Since he was a child he had been alone more than most. In some ways it was a comfort or a blessing. She of course had found someone else, someone more interesting who thought of things less but he could not help how his mind worked. He always had to question and know how things worked but not practical things or useful things. The things he felt the need to understand were things like gravity and biology. 

Hunted

Hunted

By: Kristian Gore

Fear pumps through my veins as I run from the creatures that chase me on this moonlit night. They were determined to kill me, I know this even though I can’t understand them. At first I had hunted them but I had only hunted them for food. Now those I hunted were hunting me and they seemed to enjoy the hunt. 

I could hear the creatures getting close. I heard the heavy footsteps of the large group as they crushed the dry leaves that covered the floor of the wooded area near the town. Not trusting my hiding place anymore I sprint deeper into the woods I know so well. The creatures whistle to each other and take off after me but my fear makes me fast and I am able to distance myself from them.

Prison of Fear

Prison of Fear

By: Kristian Gore

Introduction ~ Year Without Fear

Introduction: A Year Without Fear

In all the years I lived in Los Angeles I remember one year that wasn't dominated by fear. My mother had moved to New York and I was left in the care of my stepfather. I was in fifth grade and it was probably the happiest year of my childhood. It was the summer of eighty three in Long Beach California and I would soon be starting a new school again. This year would be the only time I really remember feeling safe at home. I wouldn't have to worry about violent outbursts or being told I was worthless and a burden. This was my last year in Los Angeles and part of me knew that it wasn't going to last. I don't remember hearing from my mom that year but I counted that as a good thing.

My mother had been a violent and loving person in alternating moments. Life with her meant long stretches of calm punctuated by incredibly violent rages. The rage could come at any given moment and I never knew what would set her off. I feared and loved my mother simultaneously though my step father took most of the brunt of her rage. I'm not sure but I don't think he would have allowed her to take out her frustration on me. My stepfather was an alcoholic and a very peaceful person so when my mother would go off he would simply take it. It was his role to remain calm while my mother would scream and yell. When the yelling was no longer enough she would start throwing things and breaking things of his that had meaning to their relationship. I watched as she tore apart the t-shirt he had gotten when we went to Grand Teton National park. She even sprayed Windex in his face and not once did my stepfather raise his hand to even block a punch or slap. He was a black belt in Tae-Kwon-Do but he never hit her back or raised his voice and to this day I respect him for that.