[ WP ] A man is banished to the wilderness for 20 years . Write his diary entries for his first and last days of exile .

Day One: 
 
 
 
 
 Banished. What a cruel thing for them to do. I did n't even do anything! They keep blaming me, but it was their fault. It really was, this time. I tried and tried to prevent it but there was nothing I could do, and so it happened as always. Yet they blame me. They said `` Why, why?'' And I told them that it was because of his decision. It's not like I control what he does to me. What he says, I do. And god damn, I would stop it if I could. But I ca n't. I fear him, and so I obey him. What's to be done about that, huh? They still blame me. They tell me I'm crazy, and so I will be banished, since this is somehow my fault. 
 
 
 
 
 
 But this is n't my fault. It's never been my fault. It is n't his, either. After all, I only do what it is that I want him to do. He does n't mean wrong, he knows what he's doing is for the better of us. This is their fault. All their fault. How dare they do this to me for the wrongdoing of others? This is all their fault. They crossed the line. They'll learn to never do that again. These events they have begun, it's their fault. 
 
 
 
 
 
 All their fault. 
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 It is time. 20 years they let me waste away, as if I did n't exist. They let me fade away into nothingness. As if I would tolerate that. I've plotted this day for so long. It's been so longer than 20 years. It's felt like lifetimes, because it has been. They placed me here and then said it was for 20 years, then they said 40, and then a lifetime, and another lifetime, and another. They tried to snub me out of this like I was a waste of time. They said he was a liar, all this time. But he is n't. Father never lies, never. I can feel the bite of the blade and the grit of the wood as they approach to me to take me from here for what is likely to be my last time. But I am ready. I will strike them down when their backs our turned. 
 
 
 
 
 
 For father. 
 
 
 
 
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 `` Face the wall.'' 
 
 
 
 
 
 But he did n't. As always, he was not very compliant. He just sat there, looking at me with intense eyes. I flicked open the cell, gripping my baton. 
 
 
 
 
 
 `` David, I said face the wall.'' 
 
 
 
 
 
 He stood, but he did n't face the wall. I sighed, stepping forward and grabbing his arm. But he still did n't turn. He just spoke. 
 
 
 
 
 
 `` Father Sam commands it.'' 
 
 
 
 
 
 And I felt the rush of blood, the feeling of that blade crushing into my neck. I heard the shouts, the gunshots, the laughter. All of it. I had thought he was a changed man. But here I lie, bleeding out, because of our foolishness. 
 
 
 
 
 
 I should've known Berkowitz was one that was never going to change. 

