User blog:Hong04072006/Psychology

It was only a few years ago, and my parents have bought me a gift. To my surprise, it was a dog! I loved that dog so much and would always play with him. I had a ROBLOX account at the time, so I had made a ROBLOX version of my dog. I could dream of me and our dog playing around. My life seemed pretty standard, but it felt like paradise to me as a kid. I'd always log onto ROBLOX everyday, and sometimes play with my beloved dog.

A year later after that, I was still living my ordinary life until..

My dog died?

I received news of my dog dying, and I never knew the true reason why. I could not have accepted this. My family before they died always framed me for the dog's death. A cruel and evil family. I would create games on ROBLOX depicting each and every one of my family members gruesome death until I got banned. It was not my fault, it was theirs. I would always look at the ROBLOX version of my dog every night and I would slowly break down into tears. I'd try to have conversations with it, play with it. It didn't feel the same.

It never felt the same.

While no one was looking, I ate the raw remains of my dog. I wanted to be one with him, and eating him would forever make him become a part of my body. I could not care less about the taste, all I could see is my dog in heaven telling me to continue. I can remember the taste of fur in my mouth. This is what God has intended my life to be. When I was done, I was covered in fur and blood. Now, I have no one to play with. They shouldn't have argued with me. If they hadn't messed with me, my dog wouldn't have paid the price.

Now, they paid the price.

And I'm going to pay the price after writing this. Goodbye.