*****I don’t generally do any trigger warnings since the entire blog is a free-for-all of adult topics. But if you’re at all sensitive…just skip this post*****
I’m not sure of the reasons why. But the children are being eaten alive. They know they are going to die. Most seem oddly at peace with it. Many have their favorite music playing to help distract them from the pain.
I’m forced to eat some of my son. Carefully I scrape off the smallest pieces of his skin that I can get away with. He’s being so brave and is really proud of himself for not crying.
My time is done and a man is there, ready for his turn. My expectation (hope) was that he would be as cautious as I was. I assumed that he’d try and drag the process out the same way that I did. Attempt to minimize the boy’s suffering.
He digs right in. Cutting, stabbing, consuming. And he refuses to let me hold my sons hand during the process. The boy is crying, and clearly in agony. I’m frozen by the horror of it all and how helpless I am to do anything about it. Even though I know my son is about to die, I can’t fully comprehend it.
I don’t have a good way to wrap this up. My stomach still feels icky over this one. I have nightmares almost every night, but this one is really sticking with me. Probably because it hits too close to home. No, I’ve obviously never had to eat a child. But I am lost as to how to help one of my children who desperately needs assistance. I still can’t wrap my mind around some of the things that have happened. Feel like I’m living out a bad Lifetime movie or something.