For Be Kind Rewrite
July 2006: He is so tired of this life. He wakes up each day wishing that day would be the day he finally dies. The animal that owns him, the one with the dark, evil spirit inside of him, requires too much of him; he requires his life. He fights to live, not by choice, but by instinct. And he hates himself for it.
He remembers the day the Evil One came into his life. He was so innocent then not knowing that beasts like him existed in this world. That day he took him away from his mother and brothers while he yelped, wishing he could understand him: I don't want to leave! Please leave me with my family! But he didn't hear his cries, or perhaps didn't understand his sorrow, and instead brought him to his new home. Soon, the beatings started. His body became the outlet for the Evil One's frustrations, anger and sick games. The more he would show him affection, the more he got beat. Killer - that was the name he was given - sensed the Evil One had an inextinguishable aura of hate surrounding him. He despised himself and everything in this world and violence was the only language he understood.
Six months later he was initiated into the world that soon became his life. Having been deprived of food for days, he lain weak in the basement neglected for days. When at last his meal was brought - in the form of an innocent, panic-stricken kitten - he knew that he would now have to cross a line he didn't want to cross if he wanted to survive. The Evil One dangled the terrified kitten in front of him and all he could remember was how the hunger made his stomach hurt. His mouth salivated profusely, eager to eat anything, and he didn't care what it was. A half hour later, with the blood of the innocent smeared on his face, Killer had put the kitten's life to rest. He had become that lethal animal the Evil One wanted him to be, one that was desensitized to the pain and cries of others and would be feared. The Evil One pet him for the first time in his life, "Good boy, now we can begin." And he hated him but hated himself most of all for having been the tool of a cruel, heartless act. Yet, he had been so hungry. He was ashamed of himself and just wanted to be left alone.
Soon after, the Evil One took him to places where there were others like him. He noticed the others were just as aggressive and Killer knew he could never befriend them because they easily and without remorse killed their own. Each week they would throw him in a cage against one of his own, to fight until death. Some were bigger and some smaller but none as powerful as he. Killer became the favorite of the cheering crowd and, at the end of each battle, the Evil One would always pet him. Strange because he didn't feel love for him.
This became his life, earning his owner's keep at the expense of his life. And with each kill, a little piece of him would die. He fought many that he privately considered friends because he knew the pain they lived with as well. After years of this, he was tired and wanted it to end, his body and soul scarred by injuries of so many violent fights.
Tonight he wished for death. Let the other have the victory. He wanted release, no longer wanted to live, no longer wanted to kill another one of his own. But his instinct to survive always guaranteed victory even against his better judgment. He prayed that tonight his weakness would finally win over.
Hours later, he had killed another, but he had also been badly injured. Tonight, death would finally come and he welcomed it.
Lying weak on the floor of the cage, he saw the people that usually cheered him on, run and disappear. The Evil One ran as well. Minutes later he heard the sounds of approaching footsteps.
"In here! I got two in here!" A man with a gentle hand approached, muzzled him and started petting and talking to him. "Oh God, look at you. It's alright boy, you're gonna be alright." Killer looked at the man pleading that he let him die, I killed my brother today. He didn't recognize me - or wouldn't - and I want to die. I just want to die. Please, I can't do this anymore. I can't kill anymore. Please don't beat me. Just let me die. Tonight is my night to die.
Instead the man picked him up gently and spoke to him in a tone Killer had never heard before, "You're going to be okay, boy. I promise. You're going to be okay."
July 2007: Achilles was admiring the beauty of the day and how his life had turned around. Sam was stroking him as was his habit to always do. Sam was his very best friend in the whole wide world. Sam had the aura of goodness and love surrounding him always. He never showed anger or frustration towards Achilles and Achilles loved him for that. All of Sam's friends carried the same aura. He loved them all so much.
Sam was his savior. He was the one that carried him out of that life forever and away from the Evil One on that fateful day. He took him to a hospital where many good people took care of him. Achilles didn't know there were people in the world who cared. He understood their language of love by the way they spoke and treated him. That was the universal language all sentient beings in this world understood. And Achilles was a smart dog and soon learned that in their world, aggression was not accepted. And now he no longer wanted to die and felt happier and stronger each day. Sam would come each day to visit and when he was all well, Sam took him to his new home. He would now live with Sam. The first thing Sam did was to rename him Achilles. Sam said Achilles was a great warrior like him and, like Achilles, he also had his own unique vulnerable spot: "You know what that is boy?" Achilles would wag his tail, eager to hear the story again. He licked Sam's face eagerly, no longer afraid of a human's reaction because he knew deep down inside that Sam would never hurt him and always welcomed his show of love. Sam was good, unlike the Evil One. Sam laughed and hugged Achilles, always showing him love. Sam pointed to Achilles' heart, "that right there is your vulnerability, Achilles. Your vulnerability is your ability to love. The thing that monster couldn't beat out of you. And that is the very thing that saved you in the end. Ironic, huh? And you held on boy, you held on because you and I were destined to be very best friends."
And so Achilles became a part of Sam's world. They became very best friends and went on walks together every day; he even slept on Sam's bed. And he sat here today thinking how much he loved Sam and his new life.
"What are you thinking about boy?" Achilles turned around and licked Sam's hand expressing how thankful and grateful he was that fate brought them together. Without Sam, Achilles would be dead today. And, without Sam, Achilles would have never known how beautiful and peaceful like could truly be.