I feel no remorse as I stare into the pleading, dead eyes of a child I just killed. One. Ten. One hundred. Hundreds of people were killed, are being killed. Men, women and children. No one is safe from the guns and explosions all around, from the knives held by people just like me: dazed and detached. We were trained to kill, taken from our homes from a very young age and our family members all killed right in front of us. We pleaded for help but no help came. Then we were tortured, beaten, and then forced to do immoral things. Our childhood, our innocence, taken from us in an instant just as how I now take the lives of the innocent, people just like who I used to be without a minute’s hesitation. There are sounds of cries, sobs, mingled with the screams and the last dying breaths. I am no longer human. I stopped being one, a long time ago. From the day my family was killed, I died with them; not physically, though it no longer matters if I did. I am no longer human. Stripped from all emotion, I am now only a drone: existing only for the sole purpose of bringing terror to the world. I am no longer human. I can no longer be saved.
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