Torn Souls

1. Lost

If George had one word to describe himself, it would be lost. With only five months left of university, he felt completely lost. Somewhere in the cold bland winter, he had lost every ounce of motivation. He fell behind in classes and didn't know how to catch up. Lost. The courses had only gotten more confusing. George tried to follow, but couldn't understand. Lost. He was always daydreaming but could never tell you about what. Even in his own mind, he was just... lost.

Only five months left until graduation. He would never have to step foot onto a campus again. This would be a great thing, normally. But he had no plans for the future, he was completely lost on what to do or where to go. Its hard to plan for the future when you can't even make up your mind on what to have for dinner.

George could barely even afford that. He worked a small slightly-over-minimum-wage job. He lived in a small one bedroom apartment. The walls were grey and boring. The kitchen had white counters with black cabinets and silver appliances. The bedroom was a normal size, not the size of a normal master room, but he made it work. He had been saving up since he was only fifteen.

His parents were complicated. He knew early on he needed to leave the toxic and tiring environment. He could never tell what they wanted. His mother would tell him that he talks too much and that he was too loud but then that he was always so quiet. His father would always submissively show him that he wasn't good enough and needed to try harder. That he needed to be more responsible, but his mother would then tell him he was too independent. He was just a kid.

As a result, George became the quiet person. He did things mostly on his own. He didn't want to admit it, but he was rather lonley. When it came to trying to get along with others, he would adjust to other people's personalities to be what they liked in a person. He would never see that his smile could light up a room. He would never see that his laugh brought joy to others. He was so lost in trying to be who he wasn't, he couldn't see that people would love him all the same. That is if he would just be himself.

He was tired of being lonley, he just wanted one, just one, person to like him for who he was. He was tired of being someone he wasn't. The memories of the last time he genuinely laughed were beginning to fade. He became drowned in school. Drowned in trying to make others happy.

Maybe it would be better if he just disappeared. No one seemed to bother anyways. His phone was always dryer then the desert. He was nearly failing every class. He didn't have any life plans.

When he tried to talk to any of his so called "friends", they always seemed uninterested. It was always "sorry, I already have plans" "no I can't today, maybe next week". George knew it was just away of them saying "I don't like you". So what is keeping him here? Nothing really.

His parents slowly disappeared, he hadn't received a text from them in well over a year. Not even in November for his birthday. Not even in December for Christmas. He would try to call, only to go to voice mail. So he had just given up on them. He was already so lost that no one would notice- let alone care.

So he could just, well, die. No one would notice, no one would care. But what if all of it was in his head. What if they did care and really were just busy. Maybe they actually stayed on top of their work. Maybe they just had a better job with longer hours then him.

Deep down he knew that wasn't the case. It's fine. I don't need anybody anyways. He knew that was another lie that he would tell himself. His mind was at a constant two-front-war. Anxiety and depression meeting in the middle and tearing George apart.

George just wanted everything to stop. The stress. The mindless thoughts. The endless daydreaming causing lack of focus. Endless courses and classes. The loneliness. The anxiety that courses through his body. The depression that traps his mind and tortures his soul.

He thought maybe, just maybe if it all came to an end, he wouldn't feel lost anymore.

Snapping him out of his thoughts, the sound of zippers and papers shuffling signals the end of the two hour long lecture. The last one of the day.

He exited the large building out into the frigid, icy air of January. The sun was still hidden behind the blanket of clouds that covered the sky, not making the English winter any more bareable. A thick layer of snow had appeared since the last time he saw the outside world.

He lived in the middle of London. The home of much excitement. While most people found citys to be far too noisy and distracting, he found it comforting. That maybe he wasn't the only one feeling the weight of everything in this lonley world. He was excited to get home, to recluse in his apartment, to be alone. He knew it was a bit hypocritical, to want to be alone but not wanting to feel lonley. George didn't care though. He felt how he felt. But he could be himself. No one to drain his energy. No more masking himself. Just him. Just George. And his mind, his depression, his anxiety. He sighed, he was done with thinking for today.

As he entered his apartment, he took note of just how bland it actually was. I'll get around to decorating it one day. He walked to his dull grey couch and plopped down. There were a few things here and there, a shelf with one or two books or a couple trinkets on each wall, a tv mounted just above the fake fire place. But his favourite thing was the large window in the wall. It had a stunning view of the city, and when he woke up early enough, a veiw of the sunrise. And at night, a veiw of the moon in all of it's beautiful glory (except in a new moon stage, which it was in tonight.) It was a deep windowsill, you could probably fit two people in it.

It was the most decorated thing in George's house. It was his favourite thing about it from the moment he stepped foot into this place. It had colourful cushions, with a colourful blanket. There was fairy lights framing the window, giving just enough light to make a perfect reading nook.

It was about six in the afternoon by now and the sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the city. George groaned, he knew he would have to pull an all-nighter. There were far too many assignments, and not enough time. There was no way he would fail- not now.