With Love Comes Pain |ON HOLD|

Trust

The wind was cold, and unforgiving.

The wind seemed to carry every soul, each and every new soul added came with a feeling, maybe one of anger. Maybe peace.

When the wind was perfect, blew with grace. Maybe it represented one who was at peace.

Or when the wind was hot, but refreshing, maybe it represented one who was in bliss.

Or when the wind was cold, and bitter, maybe it represented one with a taste of vengeance."Hey, sweetheart" I turn around, and I was faced with Jane.

Why won't these nightmares leave me alone? "...what do you want." I spat. Jane frowned. "It really is me, I promise. Would I really lie to you?" 

I thought for a minute, what can you lose if you've already lost everything. Right? I sighed. "Fine, but if you really are here, what do you want."

"I missed you." Jane breathed, and somehow I believed her.

I ran over to her, and wrapped my arms around her. 

After a few seconds, I removed my arms and took her hand. "I-I just realized, I haven't felt like this ever since I was alive after the attack from Clockwork at my home. I haven't felt so grateful, so...happy." 

Jane smiled, and I once again hugged her, her body was warm. And her embrace felt so trustworthy. That's when I felt her arms leave my body, I looked at her. A look of confusion painted my face, but then out of the blue, she took a knife and pressed it against my throat.

"You didn't help me, how should I forgive you. I should have known, you are just like everyone else. You were out for yourself, you did not love me." Jane said, her voice was hoarse. 

"T-That's not true!" I gasped. "I loved you-I love you with more than my life, I was scared. Everyday the guilt keeps eating away at me! how much more do you want. How much more does everyone want!" I shouted, tears brimmed in my eyes.

I shot up in my bed in a cold sweat, whipping my head back and forth knowing it was just a nightmare. 

I trusted to easily.

Both times, I was such a fool. Thinking that was Jane, how desperate I was. How stupid I was.

How pathetic I am.

I don't do anything productive, the Creepypastas, us. Were the scum of socitey. The very low part of it, we all deserve death-worse than death.

We kill innocent people, for fun.

And every time, guilt adds onto the very mountain of it, and starts to eat away at me.

I could stop doing it, I know I can.

But it's one of the only things that makes me happy anymore. The rush of adrenaline, the thrill, the light leaving their eyes.

I was disgusted with myself.

Then again, the only thing I have left is myself.

I slowly got out of bed, and trudged to the small window. I pulled at the curtain, and looked out. 

I didn't even know where I was, but realized almost right after.

This is Hoodie's room.