The Creator’s Burden
It was an endless formless prison. No sight, no sound, no touch, no taste, no emotions. I was alone with nothing. And so because I had nothing, I created something. I had no way to tell if my creation was good or evil, beautiful or ugly. I was still alone. But suddenly one day a rush of senses and emotions over took me. I could see, hear, feel, taste, and experience emotions. A flurry of sights all at once a conscious formed by hundreds at the same moment. Or at least for me it was only one moment. They eyes I see through are born and die within a single breath of mine. I have seen the horrors and the beauty of my creation. I have felt the joys and the aches of pain that make up life. I have tasted the unimaginably rich flavors and the sting of hunger. I have heard the songs of people and I have heard their screams. I have held the soft hand of a lover and the cold roughness of a gun. I have experienced the lives of each of my creations. They are my eyes and my ears. My only contribution is the continued turmoil of either ending the suffering I started or selfishly indulging on the lives of others. This is my choice. This is the creators burden.
Inspired by Kurt Vonnegut’s The Breakfast of Champions
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This is Reilly's third year writing for Spectrum and is an editor. She is a Senior. She loves writing creative pieces for the newspaper. She would love...