When A Swan Drowns [BEN Drowned Fanfic/ Romance]

Chapter 4: While the Moon Shines High

SR: This chapter is dedicated to this person. :33 I owe you a lot~! If not for your encouragement from the very start that I posted this I won't have the inspiration to continue. Yay. *0*/

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When A Swan Drowns

[BEN Drowned Fanfic/ Romance]

Chapter 4: While the Moon Shines High

Time posted: June 16 20XX -- 9:59 pm

My mom, my dad, my brother and my doctors are all mad at me because they discovered that I'm not taking my medicines. But they didn't listen to my reasons. Not even once! Even Paul! He's not talking to me since yesterday, and threatened to force down the bottles in my throat if I remained 'stubborn as fuck'.

I never saw him that mad before. I never heard him curse before. Left me speechless and guilty, but still, I didn't take my meds.

 For me the stubborness seemed to be more psychological. What good will the medicines offer to me anyway? As if it will still miraculously melt down my tumor or what. Pills make me dizzy and fragile. The doctors told me to hold on to my faith--miracles could happen.

I had enough of miracles.

I don't mean to sound pessimistic here. The miracles that I'm having now are enough. You see, it seems that this creepy hacker had stopped bugging me, and left my files untouched. Now, since that we had already did an oddly conversation in Cleverbot, does this mean that...we're friends already?

I feel like wailing here, lol. I don't mean to sound that desperate!

Or maybe you can also say it like that. If he's spying on me, can't he visit me? 

Enough of this preposterous whining. Yes. I chatted with Cleverbot for the very first time, and he introduced himself as Ben, as in...the previous dude who owns the creepy Majora's Mask cartridge. I admit that he was creepy though, claiming that he's drowned.

Like the guy in my poem.

But I guess he's just kidding, right? I mean, dead guys can't use Cleverbot. 

Remembering our conversation last-last night makes me feel a bit fluttery. Scared and fluttery. Awkward, right? You can't feel scared and fluttery at the same time when you know you're being spied on. But I did. It feels like I'm going to confess to some popular guy in school, except that I had no romantic feelings to confess to. 

Stupid. stupid. I'm blabbering all this nonsense. Perhaps, I'm just seeking for attention now that my twin brother is mad at me. Why can't they understand what I mean?  I don't wish for them to have the same sickness like mine, I just wish that they can decently understand my feelings. It feels terrible and confusing. And medicines do some wild hormonal changes, yet it doesn't do me any good in recovering. I know it, because this is my body. I know what aches, and what is relieved.

Last night, after we came home from the hospital, I had instantly dreamt of the Moon Children when my head hits the pillow. In that awkward dream, they slowly peeled off their masks, revealing decaying patches on their facial features, their now rotting visage completely devoid of their youth. Maggots fell off from their empty eye sockets that seemed to linger their gazes to me. But surprisingly, I didn't feel a tinge of shock or disgust. 

Perhaps I know that later on when I die, my face and my body will surely look like theirs. I hate thinking about it, but it's life. What belongs to the earth will return by any means, no judgement included. I must face the fact that I will be reduced into a pile of soil.