Flash Fictions

Peace

' I'm worthless,
I feel like crying all the time.
This pain is stabbing me.
Why doesn't Aaron love me?
I deserve to die, that's what he told me and I think I should. '

Reading these cruel words made my heart sink in pool of sadness. Poor Cynthy! Her diary, which I'm currently reading is drenched in sorrowness and I couldn't help but shed tears.

' Deserve to die? '

Nobody does. I can't imagine the pain she would have felt when a useless bastard told her so. What more tragic is that she even believed it as her mind has played an illusion that she's in love.

With a heavy heart, I turn the white page and see another saga where she describes her sadness -

' Why my supposed friends don't understand that I don't want to hang out? When I try to mingle and let them know about my depression, they say that I crib a lot and is always unnecessarily sad? Now that I think of it, I can't help but blame myself. I am really a brat who brings sadness everywhere. I want to commit suicide. '

The last line was cut down with a single stroke of blue ink. I smiled sadly. She's depressed and it's getting deadly now.

I again turned the page and saw another sad piece -

' I'm sorry, diary. I left you alone for many days. Can't help. Wasn't in the mood to do anything. Aaron has new girlfriend, Lucy who's obviously pretty and sexy, unlike me. I saw them kissing in the hallways. My friends have also stopped calling me after I didn't agree to sit and gossip. I don't know how to describe my pathetic life. Who should I talk with? I've no one who would understand. Can't even discuss it with parents, they've their jobs. Nobody cares for me. '

I saw that the ink was sprwaled. She must be crying while writing this. Honestly, I'm too sorrowful to read more, but I do. It was important and I'm glad that only last note was left to be read.

' I failed my history paper. What's worse? My mom said that how dissapointed she was by me. Even I'm dissapointed by me, can't blame her. All the while I can only think of death but I'm afraid of pain. Hopefully, one day I'll be courageous enough to sleep forever. '

For once, fear did something good to someone. Out of nowhere, I hear some rustling sound coming from the ground floor and immediately, I close the brown diary and put it back in the wooden drawer next to Cynthy's bed.

Only if I could tell her that ending one's life in search of something peaceful will only bring eternity of hell. Who knows it better than me, a girl who ended up her own life thinking same. Consequence? I am a spirit on run, roaming on this without a purpose.

Oh, how I wish I would have clung to my life and it's momentarily sadness. It would have fetched me heaven not this loop of afterlife sadness. I wish Cynthy doesn't kill herself . Praying so, I flew out of her window to observe another human's sorrow.

A/N
Writing novel certainly has it's own charm, but flash fiction has emerged as my favourite genre, even though I've written only two stories in it.

Are twists obvious or surprising?