The returned

Chapter 1

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a different person? A completely different person, with a completely different mind set, life, and a completely different story; have you?

I have. Every single night, for the past four years. The first night I thought about it, was the night I walked my starved, dehydrated ass seventeen miles to the nearest safe camp. It was the first night, without my parents, and the first night I had really talked to my older sister in what seemed like seven years.

Can you imagine? Four years of one image, as you lie blankly awake on a hard mattress? But you know what I imagine? I imagine, that there is someone out there, some lucky girl, who's lying on a memory foam bed, that I once had seven years ago, with her apple headphones in, listening to arctic monkeys off of her expensive apple iPhone, that I once had seven years ago, thinking about how hard and exhausting her life is because she had gotten into a fight with a girl from school.

That is the girl that I imagine. Who do you imagine? I know who you're imagining right now, and exactly what you're imagining right now, and it's me. If I were you, and I wanted to imagine me; this is what I would imagine.

"I imagine, an exhausted and fearful girl. She's 5'3, 19 years old, and only wishes for the life that she used to have. A hard mattress lays under her tired body, and if you were to look into her eyes you would see nothing. Her dirty body is limp, and pathetic. Shes not upset because her and her friend got into a fight, or because the boy she likes doesn't like her, but because she has nothing to live for anymore. Nothing but heaven." That is what I would say.

Of course, that's not all I think about when I lie here, hoping to catch a wink of sleep. I think about tomorrow. What's going to happen tomorrow? Will they take my sister too? Just like they took my parents. Will they take me? What will this one look like? What if I knew them? What if they're like my mum or my dad or something?

You can't help but let those thoughts invade your clotted mind, much more than you can avoid death in itself. You see, you can't run from death, what makes you think you can run from your thoughts?