I used to be excited to start high school, I used to love homework, it was always easy for me. But now everything has changed, my hopes, dreams are unreachable as each day passes by. I seem to be more deep into darkness than the day before, my soul is being consumed by a monster I know as myself, dwelling in the events of the past not letting me move forward. I have more trouble attending school, I don't always do my homework, I'm becoming dummer as the seconds pass. I'm lost, depressed and lonely, or so I think. I don't allow myself to have too much fun or enjoy life as I used to. Nowadays I think and think if I should let my soul free from its cage, if I should let life engulf me in its great wonders. But the question that always stops me is, do I deserve it? Do I actually deserve to live my life freely and happily when I've hurt so many people?
I always find the answer as no. I don't allow myself to move forward, I prefer to engulf in the memories of the past, even though they say the past is past. I like the feeling of pain, that way I know how much the others felt when I hurt them. I tend to drag the glinting metal across my skin, feeling the sting of the cut. My flesh spreads like wildfire as it glides down my forearm, and that's when I know I've felt the pain. I cry in silence, satisfied finally. The pain eventually numbing away, just like my thoughts do. A rush of emotions attack me like a strong gust of wind, knocking me over and slowly destroying what is left of my ugly monster. No one has defeated it just yet, I am it's protector, it's guardian unwillingly. Instead of I controlling it, it controls me.
Everyone tries to get rid of it, but I won't let them. I am it's protector after all, I can't allow it to die off. Now I believe when people said that the monsters are us, I am one. My soul is eaten away each time the blade meets my skin, with each silent salty tear, with each sting, with each inner cry for help.
My inner cry for help is ignored, the monster blocks it from the world, as it gets its way with me. I reach out to someone but place my hand back to my side, the monster in me saying to not even dare. I guess hope is lost now, I'm too deep into this mess. I signed a contract with it, and it appears it's never letting go of me.
Life is slowly giving up on me, and I know for a fact it won't catch me. It's going to let me come crashing down into the harshness of the ground. A last cry of help will escape my dry lips as my back collides with the shreds of glass awaiting for me. My body will break like cheap China being dropped from an above balcony into the busy streets of the city. The only difference is that everyone will keep on walking minding their own business. I will lay in the middle of a crowded street, but I will be invisible to the world. They won't gasp or point or even turn back, but most importantly, they won't help.
Tears of sadness will run down my bloody cheeks as I hear the chaos caused by no one else but myself.
Closing my eyes tightly I will do, block the pain of today, yesterday and the chaos that is only played deep inside my head.
I close my notebook. That was the very first entry I wrote on the notebook my Dad gave me. I sigh then laugh at how pathetic I was, writing about cutting but never having the guts to do it. Yeah, I thought about dying. I thought about it today and every other day. I feel it around me. I feel it telling me "I'mma keep you alive forever". It's so close, death, yet so far away. And sometimes all I do is wait, wait for my wounded soul to be engulfed in an eternal darkness from which I will never be able to escape.
"Are you bored?" He asks.
"Oh, no, it's just weird to have someone in my apartment besides Daniel." And it's even more weird to have you around.
"Who's that again?" The way he looks at me reminds of all the memories we had. He's still the same and it's driving me crazy.
"He's a friend and he used to be my professor." I feel nervous....I'm nervous.
"Tell me." I breathe in.
"Tell me what you did during those two years." He laughs, putting his hand on his lap and turns to face me.
I take in a deep breath; I'm not sure whether I am ready to hear what happened with his life after the accident but I have to know. I want to know how he dealt with what happened.
