In A Week I Will Be Dead

Chapter Thirty-One: Clone

!!!TW!!!

Suicide and SH references, unkind thoughts

IF YOU ARE STRUGGLING, CONTACT THE SAMARITANS ON 116 123 <3 <3 <3

Myself

I'm trapped in the keyboard. I know that when I click the escape key, I will be escaping this torment of living. This hell.

I'm Missing:

I'm not really sure how I'm supposed to start one of these things. I'm nervous, but here it goes. I had it about five years ago, but now I can't seem to find it anymore. It's small, very small but it's really obvious so if you see it you should know. Or maybe you won't know because you're too wrapped up in your own problems, which is fair enough I guess.

Sometimes I really feel like stealing to get it back again. I suppose you could say I wish it, crave it even, but I can't because that would be unfair and possibly even cheating. However, if you do see it please tell me immediately, because I can't actually see it myself. Perhaps I'm too obsessed with my own problems. But that's humanity in a nutshell so I guess I'm blending in or something.

As I said, it's been missing for a while and I'd rather like to have it back. You can help me. But you don't know I've lost it, so you haven't been helping me much. Instead, you hide it from me. Basically, I know you have it and I would very much like it back. But, you don't know you have it. See? It's a complicated situation.

Look, I'm not saying you're a bad person – okay? It's just that what you did made me lose it in the first place, so I am accounting you personally responsible for its whereabouts. I believe in you, you can do it, just remember where you last had it. Because I can't. I'm trying to, but I can't.

The rewards will be good if you find it. You won't have a murder on your hands, that's for sure. And I'll leave you alone; you'll never have to see me again. Or the thing which you have. I know it doesn't benefit you, it only benefits me. You've stolen something which is of no use to you. You can't use it. Only I can use it. I promise, when I have it I will never ever speak to you again. I will vanish completely.

Because when I have that object, I will change. I will be different, unrecognisable. The old me will vanish, the person which pisses you off will evaporate and be replaced with me 2.0.

So yeah, I don't really know how to end one of these things either. But if you see it, you know where to find me. You'll know where to find me to give me back my happiness.

My laptop keeps going out of focus, and I'm forced to readjust my eyes on something which isn't pixilated. My eyes wander to a picture of me with my parents, hanging ironically above my doorframe. Captured in youth and spirit and hope. Hope of what the future may bring. Of a life worth living.

I can't walk past playparks. There's too many children in them. I can't deal with children because I know that I can't have children. And I can't have children because I don't want them to get what I have.

They always look so jubilant swinging from the monkey-bars, or slipping down the slide, or turning on the merry-go-round. Merry-go-round. More like a lightheaded-go-round. I miss that part of me, that untainted free spirit that doesn't care what other people think about you. That part of you which can point a metaphorical middle finger at anything which invades your sphere.

But we have to remember that whilst children play in the playparks by day, it's a very different story at night. The homeless trawling the bins to receive hope from things you threw away, teenagers trampling cigarette buds into the vibrant plastic of climbing frames, thieves tiptoeing around the slides waiting for an unsuspecting person to arrive. When we grow up, everything changes.