Narrative Essay About Being Called Home

“But, we still do have that.” “No, we don’t,” Mrs. Freinheit replied as whispers and mutters could be heard now growing among Phillip’s classmates. “What do you mean, we still have that?” “We still die,” answered Phillip. “Where do you think we go when we get called home?” “Phillip, being called home is not the same as death,” Mrs. Freinheit responded to his assertion dismissively. “Being called home may seem similar to what we all believe Heaven may be like, but it’s not the same. Being called home… being called home is really nothing more than when we are finally accepted to live amongst the volunteers in infinite knowledge, harmony, and love. Being called home is something you have to earn over a lifetime of being a good person, something …show more content…
It’s not the same. Because there is no being called home, you just die.” Before Mrs. Freinheit could even respond, the entire class erupted in uproar and shock over Phillip’s contempt. She then had to repeat, “Quiet down, quiet down,” over and over in order to regain control of the room. “Phillip, that’s ridiculous and blasphemy!” she then chided. “ And, I will not have any of that talk in my class, you understand me?” “Why?” said Phillip. “What’s the big deal? You mentioned all those terrible things the world was full of before the volunteers, but do you know what else the world had before the volunteers? Freedom. Freedom of thought, of intellect, and freedom to speak one’s mind. People had the freedom to a lot of things that you don’t see anybody doing any longer. They could do drugs or have lots of promiscuous sex. They could have guns and shoot each other or themselves. They could break something just for the fun of it. Like, I could break that window right now, just pick up my chair and toss it straight through the glass.” “And, why would you want to do anything of those things, Phillip? Why would anyone? What good would any of those deplorable things be for anybody or …show more content…
Freinheit said calmly as a feeling of relief came to her knowing she once again had control of her students. “You see what just happened here, don’t you? Do you know why you didn’t break the window, Phillip? It was because, like you just said, it will do absolutely no good to do so. It wouldn’t solve anything. That’s what the volunteers have bestowed on us, the understanding that violence and destruction is never the right answer. You didn’t throw the chair because inside you knew it was wrong, you knew you didn’t really want to do it, and as a result, you didn’t. Before the volunteers arrival and them showing us a better way, the chair you so contumaciously just held up would have more than likely been sitting out on the lawn right now and shards of glass would be asunder all over the floor. But because of our rebirth, our evolution, under the volunteers omniscient guidance, we have all collectively, as a society, chosen a path where such blatant acts of destruction no longer seem a viable solution to conflict.” “No, it’s because they have power over us,” Phillip said lowly. “We can’t do certain things they deem destructive or unbeneficial to them even if we