Diana

Chapter Three: "It's Too Much"

Chapter Three

“It’s Too Much”

I was in front of my house, and flashbacks was flashed and spun around my head. My world begins to turn upside down. My genuine smile was replaced by a huge frown. I guess this is I ‘til eternity.

I grabbed my keys and unlocked the front door; I swung it open and scanned the living room—the first room you can see when you’re in front of your doorstep. It was all messy—books scattered around the coffee table, carpet full with stains and the sofa’s cloth was ripped off.

I sat on the dusty sofa and opened my laptop—the only gadget that I have. I opened my Google Chrome browser and went to Twitter. I signed in my account and there were a lot of tweets that I missed.

It was hates.

 

I read the negative tweets one by one as my eyes get watery—My vision goes blurry, I gulp the negative tears—proving them and myself that I’m brave enough to face the negative comments. But then, my eyes betrayed me. The tears pouring down my cheeks that made me feel that I will never win this fight, and that I will always be the loser.

I marched to the kitchen and grabbed a kitchen knife. I covered the curtains and cut my arms again, well it’s been a lot of months that I didn’t cut myself and I pretty missed it.

Because I’m used to it.

 

Blood was on my arms, blood drops dropping to the floor. The tears were replaced to blood, happiness was replaced to sadness and laughter was replaced to sobs. It’s too much for me.

Why can’t I just stay happy for who I am?

 

There are no good memories; there is no hope in my life. I don’t think I can win—to win this fight that I really wish to win. I expect too much of winning, winning to be free. I know that no one will help me. I’m too useless being in this world.

And I know it’s true.

 

You’re questioning that there’s a chance for Shayne to change me, but I know it’s a big no and I’m very sure about that. I know that no one can change me, because all things get worse and worse.

I’m all focused on the past, not the present and not even the future. I know you’re thinking ‘why can’t she just move on or whatever?’ But it isn’t that easy. Sometimes, making decisions is hard. It’s like a fifty-fifty thing.

I collapsed on bed and allow the blood to bleed and stain the bed. No one really didn’t understand my life—the deeper me. I was like the different one—the different color while everyone is the same.

I don’t know why I’m here in this cruel world. I sometimes question myself, “Am I worth it to stay in this world? Will I win in this fight? Should I believe on myself? And should I trust anyone?”