I Explained Myself All kinds of events can change you, although how they change you varies. There was an event that changed my life forever. The way I saw the world and all the creatures in it had changed forever.-Flashback-“Darling, it's time for bed,” my mother called. My seven-year-old self ran out of the bathroom, intent on escaping the dreaded bedtime that my mother was determined to enforce. No matter how adamant I made my pleas, I was still sent to bed at 8:00, and not a minute later. “Don't forget to say your prayers either,” echoed down the hall to my retreating body. Turning my head to look back towards his bedroom, and after making sure I wasn't seen, I grimaced before continuing towards my room. As I stepped over the threshold onto the soft carpet that made up my floor, I looked around before settling on my cat, Smoky, who was fast asleep on my bed. Love filled me as I watched his silent form, disturbed only by the slow up and down movement caused by his gentle breathing. In the darkness I couldn't make out his colors or patterns, although I knew from having him around so long that his fur was a clean white, with a few gray specks. Thinking back to my mother's earlier request to pray to me, I decided that I would try. Maybe it was my soft side, or maybe it came from a higher calling, I don't know, but something told me to do something for my kitty. I took a deep breath and let it out through parted lips as I knelt at the foot of the bed. “Dear sir,” I whispered, “please keep Smoky healthy in his old age and keep him safe. I know I'm not asking much of you, but could you please do it. Amen." I lay on the ground for a few more minutes...... middle of paper...... left a huge scar on my person, teaching me that I could never trust or believe in him, nor in his message. To this day I have never prayed again. I feel that if I do, something bad will happen in return, although I don't know what. For this reason I do not associate with any religion. The feeling of not belonging consumes me and prevents me to participate in any religious activity or ceremony. My family doesn't know this though, because I know they would never understand my reasons for not having a religion. They don't know the pain I felt in losing Smoky, nor the numbness I experienced afterwards To them, I would simply be going through a phase of rebellion, even though I've lived like this my whole life. What they might consider a split-second decision to change, I see as a lifelong consequence of something that happened in my childhood.