Wow, Anne, your whole life has been a lie. None of this is real. There is always more to everything and everyone.
It was sunset. I stood on my balcony under the colorful sky, looking out to the urban landscape four stories below, feeling the hot, night wind on my face, whipping my hair into a frenzy.
You don't have a real family.
A tear rolled down my cheek.
In the end, all you will ever have is yourself.
Another tear.
No one really cared about you.
The sky grew darker and darker, and the lights coming from inside the buildings turned off one by one. There were less cars, and the road started to become empty.
I watched as people closed down their shops, and hurried to go home. I watched as children walked with their mothers and fathers, excitedly chattering about their day at school.
See that, Anne? You never had that. It was never real.
Shut up, I told my subconscious part of my mind.
I stood on the balcony for another half an hour, just thinking to myself.
But it wouldn't shut up. It started talking again.
Anne, you can't go home to people who don't tell you the truth.
Home.
Home is where your parents teach you to ride a bike. Where they tuck you into bed at night, or when they get all choked up on your first day of school.
For all you know, they could be lying about their names too.
Every single person you trusted.
Do you want to live with these people? People who lied to you? People who had two sides, the mask, which they showed to you, but never the other, which they tried to hide behind the mask?
No.
I left the balcony and entered my room, grabbing an empty school bag and rummaged through my clothes, closing my laptop on my desk and reached for my olives.
I made my decision.
