Black Pit of Darkness | The Dark Truth

Everyone today thinks of it as a dream place. A place almost everybody knows as a place where all wishes come true. Still, I can't help but smile at them, smile at their blessed ignorance. Because I know the hellish truth about it. I know what a terrible, dangerous, dark place it is. And I again feel what a mercy it is not to know about some things— because not everything on this Earth is for everyone, and it is better to stay ignorant of some things.

When I first completed the necessary processes, I couldn't help feeling something on my back, because I couldn't forget the vile things people spoke about the place. Still, suppressed excitement won over that natural alarm, and I felt too confident to keep myself safe from bad things. 

The first few days went well. I used to go and spend quite some time there. I met several new people, who were all nice and friendly. I always tried to prove myself and quite succeeded in that— in no time at all I got a bunch of good friends who often filled me with praise. Gaining more and more confidence, I excelled in my works.

Slowly I began to feel that the bad whispers about this place were all exaggerations. There was nothing of that sort. It was truly a good place. I began to enjoy it, slowly getting more publicity and becoming a familiar face. Nobody had anything to say against me. I gained a good will there.

Perhaps it was good to stay as a less known person. Perhaps I should not have been that ambitious. Now I know how true this phrase is, less known, more safe. I heard that umpteen times in my life, but never felt it so vividly before then.

For it was out of publicity danger approached me. I already noticed a particular bunch of people who always teased, goaded and insulted others. I always stayed away from them, did nothing that could attract the attention of these people. I thought they would never hunt me, as I did nothing that could make me a prey. 

Alas, that innocence, that simple belief of ignorance! Do nothing bad, and get nothing bad, that kind of childish simplification! I know better now, that if you're unstained, unblemished and untainted, you're the first, foremost and softest target of evil. History will testify here, aren't the purest and most innocent ones always the first victims in this cruel, unforgiving world?

One day, they charged at me. It's said that if you tolerate without protest you're tortured more; but now I know, the first attack is a bait and if you resist even mildly, you're inside their net. I committed that mistake— that greatest blunder of my life. I protested, and I got used; cruelly, ruthlessly used.

The fairyland dream quickly vanished. I was continuously and viciously abused and humiliated, but if I ever opened my mouth even slightly, they lashed out at me in the most brutal and inhuman way possible. I was made to behold most malicious, diabolic and fiendish monstrosities, and had no other choice than to bear that agony in total silence. 

I've been trying to get out of there, but still can't help getting haunted back to the place. I still have many friends and well-wishers there, and I can't leave them getting assaulted alone in that hell. 

Even if I escape, I'll never be the same again. I'll never be able to see the world in the way I used to see before, for I know what demonic, blasphemous, infernal world lurks under enticing covers. For the place has robbed me of my most precious, invaluable treasure— my innocence. I now pray for God's mercy to permanently erase my memories of the place which is just a small version of the world— it was the social media. 

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