The cursed wolf ✔(unedited version)

I want to believe

I was sitting at the table staring through the window in my room. This wasn't my own choice exactly.

I didn't want to leave the bed today. I didn't want to think or do anything, but I lived with Alex. And he made sure that I wouldn't become a hermit that lived under the covers and fed on dry cereal no matter how bad I felt.

So here I was, just sitting. I guess that was better than staying in bed all day.

"Hey buddy, how are you feeling?" Alex asked coming out of the kitchen.

"How do you think." I didn't bother to look at him still staring through the window.

He didn't say anything for a while.

"I wish things could be different," he spoke quietly.

"But they can't be, now can they?" I looked at him." I don't need your pity."

"It's not pity, it's concern."

"Looks like pity to me," I said in a tone that I hope conveyed that I didn't want to talk.

He sighed but didn't say anything else.

He walked around the room, getting ready for that stupid memorial.

"You sure you're not coming?" He asked eventually.

"I'm sure," I said. The last thing I want to see is a bunch of people pretending that they knew her and that they're sad that she's gone.

"Ok then, I made you tea. It should help you calm down." Alex shoved a cup into my hands.

"Thanks," I said looking down at the cup. It smelled good.

"I'm leaving now. If you need anything and I mean anything, call me, ok?" Alex talked very softly. Did he always spoke like that? I never noticed.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." I waved him off.

He left not saying another word. I needed time alone and I think he understood that.

I spun around in my chair, staring at the ceiling. It felt like my eyes were covered in mist.

I had no idea how much time passed.

I forgot about the tea in my hand. 

I looked at the wall covered in posters. Then I glanced at Alex empty wall. Then back at mine. It looked so silly now, somehow.

The original "Scream" poster that I was so happy about when I got it. "The conjuring" poster that I stole from the cinema theatre.

And of course The "X-files" poster. The oldest one. It dwelled nostalgia. The late nights watching the show. Believing that every story was real. Making theories. Annoying my parents with it. The amount of happiness it gave me then, that even now when I moved here I had to keep it with me.

It made me angry now.

The text on the poster read 'I want to believe'.

the words echoing in my head.

I want to believe

This is how it started, didn't it?

It came down to what I and jane believed.

The decisions we made and the lies we told ourselves.

Would it be different if I said something different? Would I be dead in that forest with her if I went with my gut?

I want to believe

The problem is, I don't want to.

Scary monsters were just stories that help me escape reality, but I didn't want them to be real.