Monday, December 6, 2010

To be called a monster

There’s one boy. That right when you see him you despise him. He’s a murder, he killed your son. You criticize him before letting him tell his whole story. Without getting that he’s been hurt and killed in other ways. That it was your sons own fault that he’s in hell now. You should first know his black and dangerous story and what made him become a murder. What made him kill people? What made him the same from other murderers?


And as people only see it he’s a dangerous monster. A monster from the book 19 minutes by Jodi Picoult. A monster named peter. Known for killing ten students and injuring a lot when he bought a pistol to school. A monster that must be killed. Not just locked away.
To be a monster is to be a cruel and wicked. It is cruel to take someone’s life away. But there’s no pain. Peter was killed by the boy he killed. He was hurt. There was a lot of pain. And the only way he found out was to get rid of the bullies. To get rid of that monster. To not get rid of himself like others will do. And I guess it turned to a game. A game full of blackness the only targets are everyone. For they are all your enemies. They are all in the bully’s side. There is no one to trust.
I believe that no one is a monster. Not unless it’s in a movie. That no one could be considered both cruel and wicked. Not even that person who you think hurts you terribly. Who mistreats. Who rapes you day after day. Not even the men who killed one thousand people. Or that woman that took my pop away. That woman who killed him and left a whole. I just think their picking sides. Sides to be with the devil or the monster. They’re picking bad over good.  They’re picking what parents showed them to pick.
Every murderer has a background. A reason. They know they were hurt once and they want to get revenge. To show them what it feels to die. The only way is dead. Which is not even close, to show the hurt. Not enough. So they mistreat them before dead comes. They hurt, spit and kick the bully. And the bully knows he’s going to die and he prays and begs. The killer has fun watching him finally feeling like the bully and later the gun is shot.
But I would rather that bully be alive. To tell him my hurt. To cry with him. To put some sense in him. To make him hurt in another way. To not make this a game because it never is.
If I didn’t know peter better. I would have judged him like any other person. I would have probably called him a monster and every wicked thing I can think about. I would have probably killed him if he murdered one of my children. But I know everything. Who hurt him and how he was killed. I would probably not think he is nice but I would never call him a monster.







1 comment:

  1. i like this post susan, i think i might want to read that book some day.

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