When you hear the term camp fire…(P.Munginga)5 min read

When you hear the term camp fire the first thing you think of is a group of friends
enjoying themselves, right? Roasting marshmallows too right ? Even singing camp
songs , right ? Unfortunately, that was not my reality. The one thing that seems so
harmless was my nightmare and as I sit here slowly peering at the sight in front of me
the inkling of hope I once grasped tightly began to slither out of my grasp at an
excruciatingly slow pace , leaving me with nothing but an empty shell of depression.
It wasn’t like I brought this upon myself or asked for their attention, but it just
happened. My gold encrusted priceless shell lured their in cognizant minds towards
it as if it was light and they were moths. It all started when I blessed them with a
friendly smile, it was an innocent act from one individual to another , but they saw it
as something different. they took it as an invitation to devote their precious time to
befriending me. At first it was tolerable considering my inability to leave their
company , but eventually I began to see that my profit , or loss , ratio and forecast
was leaning more towards a loss than profit .
They were becoming annoyances that nit picked my insecurities and rendered me
incompetent, inept, inadequate,thus, the situation at present . I had to stop them
from draining the fire I once had in my heart from everyone else , they had to be
punished. Maybe my form of punishment was a bit on the severe side but this
mission was of paramount importance. Maybe , tying their old lanky legs to the
branch of the old oak tree was ‘extreme’ , but Hitler was ‘extreme’ and he made

Germany strong , therefore, I was definitely right. I am definitely right . I don’t even
need to justify myself. They need to burn.
I’m not their only victim , of course I’m not . I mean the abundance of intelligent
ladies I see and have seen leaving their ‘ worshipped’ presence with a stream of clear
crystal like tears painting their horror stricken faces . Why should we suffer? Why
should they win ? If you look at it from a victims point of view , you will clearly see
that I am the hero here . Sacrificing my safety , my own forthright conscience that
has been abusing my inner empire as if these ideas, these malicious thoughts that
only seem to spread their beliefs all throughout my being did nothing but try to fight
the leader out of me , but I’m staying strong .
I love the joyous feelings that seeps through my minute pores as my gaze falls on
them. Hanging by their pale porcelain like legs that are tightly knotted , with a
beautiful rift knot , to the old oak ‘hanging’ tree . You may be wondering why it’s
called the ‘ hanging tree ‘ well let me fill you in . Most if not all the hangings take
place here , whether by choice or by force , therefore , my tracks will never be
followed as they’ll just think ‘ the normal incident’ took place. Sure, it’s uncouth and
unorthodox , but some people need to be sacrificed for the betterment of the
majorities lives . In addition, it’s another heavy facet of the world we live in .
Normalizing the abnormal . You see , I’m right .
Their suspended bodies creating a shadow upon my innocent angel like face as I
sat by the fire . I’ve always been enticed by the look of those fluorescent haphazard
flames that with one kiss ignited your skin and charred your heart. Almost like a a
painter leaving their indelible mark on their canvas but theirs a dark morbid abyss.
Utterly beautiful. I had to make this fire , we needed it if we were going to
successfully rid of the evidence , we couldn’t get caught . Mr J had the audacity to
beg . He begged and begged and begged for me to untie them , but I couldn’t, he
HAD to suffer , there was no other way .
This was a result of their constant corrections that they threw onto us that
weakened our resolve and melted the block of confidence that we thought we held .
Every single time we thought we were going in the right direction they had to paint
our essays with that calamitous red ink , completely tainting my A level penmanship
as if I did not devote my heart and soul into it. They kept trying to force their beliefs
and thought processes into our heads , completely indoctrinating us , but I knew
better . We needed to rid of the problem.
Your individuality should not be a problem , it should be a driving force but they
made it seem like I was going to war with a toothpick for I did not hold the

knowledge to survive or win. They portrayed me as weak and for that they must pay.
When they all began to flail I submerged myself in an ocean of fear as I began to
doubt myself and my calculations. Would the branch hold or would it crack under
pressure ?
I began to pace around the contained blistering inferno that created a cushion
below their levitating bodies fighting my inner angel that was whispering to me in a
tone so sweet trying to get me to let them go , but I couldn’t, I can’t let them go .
Stay strong , stay strong .
Their reddening faces made my heart feel as though it was being squeezed and
the nauseating feeling engulfing me whole . I sat there looking around the campfire I
started trying to fight the haunting sympathy, only yearning to go home. Why ? Why
did the emotions have to seep in now when their bodies were forcefully shedding the
clear glistening liquid that completely evoked their fear . The peak of my revenge was
reached.
I can do it , just watch them die but as soon as the deafening sound of the tearing
rope struck my sensitive eardrums , remorse consumed me whole. They began to
fall…