All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
I was dying.
The only thing I was aware of was the emmense amount of strength I had to give in order to fight against this. I was alone, a teenage fire-girl caught in the middle water surrounding me. I was not in my element.
I had always hated water. At fifteen years, I still had yet to learn to swim. It was fire that interested me, the dry, hot feeling awakening my senses. But then, in that moment, all I was capable of doing was flail around, trying frantically to keep my head above water.
Never before had I imagined myself in this situation. I was simply on my own personal boat out in the ocean when it suddenly flipped over. The waves alone had already dragged me wherever it wished. I was more scared than I ever have been before. My heart was beating so quickly, I feared I'd have a panic attack on top of all this.
And just to make it even worse, that's when my Devil began to creep in.
'Give up,' it whispered in my ear, it's voice echoing around every corner of my brain. 'Why try, when you're just going to fail? Let yourself die, girl. You're going to anyway.'
"Stop," I moaned aloud. But I didn't work. My Devil never did what I asked. It was just there to pressure me. Whenever I was in a situation where I told myself I could not give up, my Devil crept into my brain and told me to give up. I lived an easy but uneventful and hopeless life. In my world, hope was nonexistant.
'It'll be easier to give up, you know,' my Devil purred. It knew I loved the easy-way out.
My flailing bones began to come to a gradual rest, my body and mind telling me it was time to give up. To Give Up, like I always do. Maybe my Devil is always right.
But my heart and soul told me otherwise. 'Keep fighting,' my heart told me. I tilted my head. Nobody had ever said those words to me.
My heart and my Devil had a fight inside my body, killing for my attention. But I was always up to something new, even though I always gave up after some time.
I kept fighting.
I shoved my Devil so deep inside my brain that it's voice was nearly muted. I could no longer hear it's discouraging words.
No matter what was there to drag me down, I always kept my ground.