The Curse of Humanity

Back to Article
Back to Article

The Curse of Humanity

Brenna Birr

Hang on for a minute...we're trying to find some more stories you might like.


Email This Story






I’ve been here since the start of time. I plague the unfortunate and steal from those that I once helped. I stood behind every war; the soldiers that fell, the children left to be orphans, controlled the minds that destroyed so many lives. Poisoned the thoughts that lusted for more power and in the end led them to the ruins of everything that I gave them.

I know everyone personally, though they will never truly know me. To each person I’m different. Some think I hold the key to a happy life and search the edges of the world to find me. Others renounce me, or at least try to, in search of a higher meaning; little do they know that there is none. And a very few that know me the best, the most wise out of the bunch, look at me with spite. Those very rare people have seen my face, have seen all the good I have done before it’s all taken away.

People always give me the wrong acknowledgement. My purpose isn’t to aid hope, it’s to destroy it. I am the curse of the human race, given life to torment all souls that arrive on this Earth. I give you a glimpse of pure, unadulterated bliss, before ripping the ground out from underneath your drugged heart. Every person bears this curse, some feel it more than others and experience it in different ways. One way or another I will be there, waiting and watching as you climb the eternal steps to an unreachable summit.

One would think after millenniums I would want a break, that for once I would leave things to be happy. What they don’t understand is I am the motivation behind their puny lives. Without me humans would have no purpose, no drive for life. They would be dull, boring dolls that would just fade into oblivion, no one to remember them but me. Without me, sure there would be no struggle, there also wouldn’t be any reward. Like a stripe of navy blue against a vibrant orange background, pain accentuates how precious “good moments” are.

From my time observing humans I have only learned a lot about them. They are fragile, sensitive, easily swayed, and most importantly, ignorant. I feared that after generations of the torture they experience at my hands, they would learn to avoid me. But humans are folly. They don’t learn from their experiences and when they start to listen it’s already too late. Do they not realize that Love and Suffering are they same thing?

Print Friendly, PDF & Email