RED HANDS + DREAMS DISSOLVED IN FLASHES OF BLUE AND RED
THE CHAOS ROLLED IN SLOWLY LIKE SMOKE
Captured in the fashion district, where the air clings heavy with perfume and neon lights flicker like broken dreams, Mitchell Royel’s lens found me—lost, yet electric. We're sinking into sounds that feel like velvet on bare skin, SIPPIN by Milco and DEJA, each beat unraveling another layer of who I am, or who I was pretending to be. It’s the kind of night where every glance is a confession, every shadow knows your secrets, and the music doesn’t just fill the space—it owns it.
It all happened so fast, but looking back now, I can see every single moment that led to it as clearly as if it were playing on a screen. I rolled up to her house — a twenty-year-old on a full scholarship to a Christian college, someone who was supposed to have it all together. The night felt tense before I even stepped out of the car, but I didn’t care. My heart was pounding, my head full of all the things I wanted to say, all the ways she hurt me. It was like I was brimming with this volatile energy that had nowhere to go but straight to her.
When she opened the door, it was like a match hit gasoline. I snapped. The words that came out of me — they weren’t planned, they weren’t thoughtful, but they were sharp, ugly, and cruel. I cursed her out so bad. Words that no Christian, no decent person, should ever say. I can still hear them echo sometimes. And then, before I even knew what was happening, it escalated. We were brawling, right there in her living room, rolling on the floor like wild animals. Just pure chaos. Everything was a blur. There was no reason, no thought, just raw, unfiltered rage. I was seeing nothing but red. That moment, that anger, it consumed me. It didn’t matter what anyone would’ve said or done then. I wasn’t myself anymore.
What she did to me felt unforgivable — at least, that’s what I convinced myself of in the heat of that moment. I thought I was justified, that my pain gave me permission to act out. But there’s no justification for what I did. Not really. And the thing is, I never even saw it coming after that. She waited; maybe they all did. They gave it time, about a month, keeping quiet, letting me think I had gotten away with it, before they made their move. Then one night, the cops showed up, and it was over. Just like that. No warning, no second chances. They took me away, and everything — my freedom, my sense of control, my life as I knew it — was ripped out from under me.
And the night before that press conference? Hard partying, trying to drown it all out in a blur of music, drinks, and mindless jokes. That’s what I thought would fix it. But it didn’t. It never did. I remember sitting in some crappy corner, tears blurring my vision as I replayed everything, over and over. Every mistake, every word, every moment I couldn’t take back. Deep in my chest, I knew the truth. What she did may have felt unforgivable to me, but what I did was wrong. There’s no way to excuse it, no way to pretend it didn’t happen.
Now my scholarship is gone. That dream of graduating, of making something of myself, it’s gone too. I won’t be setting foot on that campus next semester. The thing I worked years for, something that felt like a lifeline, was stripped away because of one night. One horrible, stupid night where I wasn’t strong enough to hold myself back. I gave in, and I have to live with the consequences. I can’t run from it, and I know I won’t try to. That would be pointless anyway.
For the next month, I’m taking it all to my pastor. I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how to fix this, how to make any of it right. But maybe, just maybe, if I can find a way to open up, to pour all of this out somewhere, I’ll begin to figure that out. It’s all I’ve got left right now. The rest is just pieces I don’t know how to put back together.
Two years later, I stood in a place I never imagined I would be. The pieces didn’t fall back together perfectly—they never do. Life after the breaking point is never about restoring what once was but about building something new from the rubble. Faith was my anchor through it all, though it didn’t come easily, nor did the answers. There were days when I thought God was silent, and others when I realized He had spoken through the people around me—through my pastor, through friends who stuck by me when I deserved their ridicule, and through strangers whose kindness left me speechless.
The road to healing was neither straight nor smooth; it was jagged with the sharp edges of regret and uncertainty. But in the end, grace had the final word. I learned that even when I sabotaged my own life, even when it felt irreparable, hope had a way of creeping in, patching the cracks in my resolve little by little. Now, I tell my story to others—not to boast of recovery but to remind them that they are not beyond redemption, no matter how far they think they’ve fallen.
When we face these moments, the ones where it seems impossible to move forward, we are reminded of the fragile yet resilient nature of the human spirit. It’s not about undoing the wrongs but choosing to live better in their shadow.
It’s a sobering thing to look back and realize how far I had fallen, not just in my actions, but in my heart. Crossing the line, doing the unthinkable—it’s not something that happens in isolation. It’s a series of small choices, compromises, and unchecked bitterness that snowball into disaster. The irony, though, is that it wasn’t in my darkest moment that I truly hit rock bottom. It was afterward, in the days and weeks when I had to face the consequences of what I had done. That’s where the real reckoning happened.
The road back wasn’t glamorous. There were no dramatic moments, no instant fixes. It was slow and grueling, filled with long nights of self-reflection and countless hours of uncomfortable conversations with people I had hurt. But somewhere along the way, I learned that redemption isn’t about erasing the past; it’s about allowing it to shape you into someone better. The scars don’t go away, but they become reminders—of both the pain caused and the grace received. And in that grace, I found purpose again. I stand here now, not as someone who has it all together, but as someone who knows what it means to stand at the edge of despair and still find a way forward. For anyone who’s been there, I want you to know—it’s not the end of your story, not if you don’t want it to be.
-Mitch, Deck
Captured in Moorpark, California – July 26, 2026, by Mitchell Royel. A striking moment that transcends the ordinary, embodying authenticity and unfiltered emotion.
Epilogue: We’ve all had moments when the storm inside us felt catastrophic, like it would consume everything in its path. But here’s the truth we often forget amidst the whirlwind: our past doesn’t define us—it prepares us. Even in the wreckage of our worst choices, there’s a seed of renewal, a whisper that tells us we are more than the sum of our failures. Yes, we fell, but falling is part of the human experience. What matters is what we do when we hit the ground. Will we stay there, or will we rise? Together, we must rise.
The grace that saves us doesn’t just stitch up our wounds; it transforms the way we see them. Every scar is evidence of survival, proof that we have endured, grown, and carried forward. Redemption is available, not because we’ve earned it, but because love and grace are unrelenting forces that refuse to give up on us. It’s in our darkest hours that light creeps in, showing us the way back to ourselves and to a greater purpose.
Here’s what we hold onto as we step forward, stronger and wiser:
2 Corinthians 12:9 - "But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me."
Isaiah 41:10 - "So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."
Psalm 46:1 - "God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble."
Romans 8:28 - "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."
Philippians 4:13 - "I can do all this through him who gives me strength."
Joshua 1:9 - "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go."
Matthew 11:28-30 - "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."
Lamentations 3:22-23 - "Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness."
Proverbs 3:5-6 - "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight."
Deuteronomy 31:6 - "Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you."