Dear Conscience It’s time we go our separate ways It’s never easy. It is like getting your skin stripped of or our bone marrow ripped out. It hurts, it stings. Yet we both know this must be done. For 16 years we have tolerated each other. But now, for my sake, the bonds between us must be severed. Otherwise, I shall soon be staring at the walls of a casket. Before we part, let me remind you of some events in our journey. It is not my intention to trigger a smile upon your face because none of these memories wear the color of goodness. You and I both share the blame for their badness. There were moments were I wore the coat of a devil. I ignored you and I know I hurt you. One that I managed to recall is an incident that occurred in fourth grade. Our teacher had surprised us with one of her spelling quizzes. She was particularly quick to mark them after we had finished writing. When she handed them back, I realized with an agape mouth that I had gotten full marks. I was ecstatic. However, my joy was short-lived as I soon realized that she had awarded five of the marks wrongly. You told me to tell her she had made a mistake. But I slapped you quiet and chastised you for trying to steal my joy. I’m sorry. Do you remember the city tour in fifth grade? How could you forget? It was sizzling hot when my classmates and I walked through the city’s streets that afternoon. I had a vanilla ice-cream dripping down my hand. At a certain time, I lingered behind for a minute to admire a statue and when I turned to catch up with the rest, a girl stood staring at me, hand stretched out. Her clothes were tattered and torn. Her hair cascaded down her face in an untidy manner. “Can I please have some?” she said in a pleading voice. But I was in too much of a hurry. I dashed forward to meet with my friends. You told me to turn back, to help the homeless girl. But the laughter and chatter of my friends soon swallowed your voice. Did she eat that day? I don’t know. I’m sorry. Miranda… my best friend. She is one hard to forget. We shared everything: our clothes, our laughter, our worries and… our secret plans. I still don’t know what eventually became of her, Conscience. Is she still alive? Did she survive? You told me to tell her it was dangerous, she could die. But I wanted my friend to look beautiful and attractive, so I agreed to hide her food for her. For weeks she went on that way, having only a salad at dinner for nourishment. She managed to prevent her mother from becoming suspicious all the while, until that horrid day- the day you constantly remind me of. It was during school assembly when she collapsed. She was rushed to the clinic. The doctor said her vitals were failing and her prognosis was grim. She was immediately transferred to the city hospital for better care. I never saw her again. Dear God, what happened to her? I am so, so sorry. Please, forgive me. I should have listened. Conscience, I’ve been terrible to you and I know I hurt you many, many times. Yet we must also acknowledge that there were moments where you too were unfair. There were times when you bombarded me with torturous questions and robbed my nights of any sleep. You plucked me from the comfort of my bed with the gruesome nightmares you gave me. You made me feel as filthy as the Devil himself. But I wasn’t always the one to blame. Conscience, you were unfair. Let’s start with the peculiar rain that poured down on that afternoon in June. It was soon after we had learned about the changing weather in our planet. We had become familiar with all the causes and effects of a warming earth and of course, untimely storms were one of the effects. It just so happened that I had forgotten to turn off my bedroom light the previous night. That’s when you saw the juicy opportunity to torture me with guilt, telling me I had caused the storm. You made me think of all the homeless who could not escape the it. When we found out how much was destroyed, you raised your voice and pierced my heart with your blaming words. You convinced me I was the reason hundreds were suffering. Was that really necessary? You were unfair. Last year, my family was shaken and shattered. The vows my parents made to each other were broken- they separated. Their shrieks, shouts and screams still resonate in my head like a thousand sirens or a million buzzing bees. Mom and dad shattered the silence of every night with argument upon argument. Do you remember what you whispered to me behind their voices? -That I had been too much of a burden, that I had asked too much money for school tours and that I had taken too much of their time. You didn’t miss a chance to make me wish I could dissolve out of their lives. You were right, they did argue about money and time. But I wasn’t the one to blame. There was another woman! So why, Conscience? Why did you do that? You were unfair! Now, the claws of grief have dug deep into my heart. I lost my brother, my comforter, my role model. Sam, the bright, energetic teenager, the one everybody admired, the one who always made my heart swell with pride, took his own life. Who could have predicted such a horrifying deed? My heart aches with immeasurable pain. And you? For you it’s a golden opportunity to blame. Now you tell me I should have tried to talk to him more. I should have been there to when he needed someone to free him from the chains of depression. And on that fateful day? Why wasn’t I home earlier? Why did I agree to spend an extra hour at the mall? I could have called the ambulance earlier. Perhaps he would still have a beating heart and a soothing voice now. You have lodged all of that into my head. But Conscience isn’t God the one in control? He decides what to allow and what to prevent. Is it really my fault? No, Conscience. We can’t go on like this. We have wronged each other too much. We don’t belong together. Today, we must part or I shall be thrust into the grave. It stings my heart to have to do this. Goodbye Conscience Yours sincerely Host