Bum-Zas-Ras

The homework was basically to do and essay  about how did someone persuade us to do something ( good or bad) and how did affect our lives. I hope you like it.

Alejandro Soto Castro

I wish I had as easy as Macbeth and what I was persuade to do was only to kill a king or  a bunch of people, but no, I got persuade to do something much more horrible, much darker, much more traumatic.
The “Lady Macbeth” of my tale it’s the alive version of Death, the Dracula of Chester, the Dr. Frankenstein of LC Bird.
It was a cold day of March, I woke up at 5 as usual and I walk for two hours through the snow to the school. First period passed normally, but the evil was waiting at the next period. I got to my English class; it’s said that Satan can change its appearance to mess with our minds, now I understand why. When the class started everything was fine, there was no evil on her face.
Suddenly, she started explaining the new project that we had to do, as she talked, the room got darker and darker; she wanted us to write about something that someone had persuaded us to do (probably she was trying to incriminate us to sell us to the police), but the worst hadn't passed yet.
I asked her if I could invent it, because I didn't feel comfortable talking about something confidential. The room turned on fire as her eyes got red as blood, she opened her mouth and her teeth were sharpened as knifes, she pointed at me with her claws and she said with her voice from the beyond “I would prefer if you don’t do it”. My blood freeze my breath stopped and it seemed that each second I was smaller.
I set there until I lost my conscious, when I woke up I was on my 5th period, I had no idea of how I had got there. The fear returned to my body as I remembered what the duty that was commended to me.
It took me a few days to return to a mental state where I could think clearly, still I could not sleep more than three hours without having terrify nightmares.
 And here I am now, writing in this paper something that someone persuade me to do and asking God the strength to pass through it.
But all this suffering has made me stronger, as the metal that is beat on with a hammer on the forge until becomes a sword. I've learned that behind the kindness face of a teacher there’s always a monster, hidden, waiting.
I’m prepared now, next time that someone makes me write something that I do not want, I will attack him with the edge of my pen.