Last Time | lams

John

Hi (: so i decided to write some bonus, and this one is the first. I have some ideas, and I'll write when I'll find motivation to write them. I'm currently writting anything else so I have no clue when i'll write the "bonus". 

Also, this is about John, and this time is really about suicide so i put a new TW. Don't forget suicide isn't the solution, and if you need to talk my pm are always open. 

August 5, 20XX - 8 years old

"Hey John, look!"

I lifted my head from my notebook to look at my mother. She looked really focused, her eyes were staring at a tree. I got up and wiped my knees before I went towards her direction, Mom put a finger on her lips, telling me softly not to make too much noise. In the tree, wedged between two branches, was a nest, a nest that housed one bird, not rather a mother bird that seemed to feed her babies. Oh. Without realizing it, my mouth opened because of my amazement. I also felt my eyes enlarge. Behind me, I heard my mother laughing a little, and I turned to her, still as stunned by these little beings living in this tree. But it was so amazing! These birds are so cute. My mother beckoned me to sit next to her, which I did. She stroked my hair and looked up at the sky.

"Birds are like freedom," she whispered, "they can fly, and they can go anywhere. John, you're like a bird, you've got your whole life ahead of you, and you know, you can make everything happen. You have so much time."

I looked at her without understanding, and she smiled tenderly at me. I love my mother more than anything in the world. When she smiles at me, I feel like the world is sweeter.

"I love birds," she continued, "they are probably my favorite animals. They are beautiful, don't you think? And they're all so different. They are so amazing and free."

I got up, and my head was in front of my mother's, who was always on the grass. Her hair seemed to fly with the wind. She is so beautiful, like the birds. "Then I would draw you all the birds of the world!" I exclaimed happily as I grabbed my sketchbook.

"You are adorable, John, I'm lucky to have you, I love you."

January 17, 201X - 14 years old

Is there something I'm doing wrong? Why can't I find this person. Someone who can be here for me? Maybe I will never find anyone. I keep telling myself that I still have so much time, my mother often tells me that too. But she doesn't know. And no one else knows how lonely I feel. Why am I alone? If I'm not able to make friends now, would I ever be able to? How we can make friends? Why it is so difficult? 

I looked at myself in the mirror. Just seeing my reflection hurts me. What can I not do? Why am I like this? I touched my face gently with my hand. I don't understand. 

How can my mother repeat to me that I am the most beautiful boy this Earth has ever known. Even if her objectivity as a mother is totally non-existent, she goes too far. She's so wrong. There is nothing about me that is out of the ordinary, except how horrible I am. I have nothing. I love my mother, but she's wrong. She shouldn't say anything, I know she's lying. And see people lying hurt so much.

What's wrong with me?

Every night, I dream that someone can prove to me that I can be loved. It's hard to be alone, it reminds me that I have no one, that I don't interest anyone. Why?

But I'm only 14 years old. I know the future can be brighter. I wish I could see that light now. Why does the future look so bleak? I have to remember, I still have my whole life.

And if that's all it was. there's something wrong with me.

I must not be normal. But why of all the girls that exist on Earth, it is this boy that attracts me? It is not normal. I'm not normal. there's something weird about me. I don't understand, I can't understand. No matter how hard I try to ignore it, those thoughts don't change. My gaze never arises spontaneously on the face of a girl, as beautiful as she may be.