Doomed to be Dead

Chapter 10- What Have I Done?

What is it like to sleep?
I can't remember. I can't remember a time when my door wasn't locked the light bulb smashed somewhere on the floor. I don't remember the light. I must have blackened the windows out.
What do the voices sound like outside my head. How long have I been in this room. It feels like an eternity. I haven't heard anyone knock in what I'm assuming is weeks. What's wrong with me? Why have these I'm assuming months alone and depriving myself of my senses been the only months I've gone without seeing a single dead Person? I don't understand why. WHY! I grab the nearest thing to me which felt hard and heavy, it was cold like a metal.  I threw it. I heard it hit the wall then the floor.  That sound echoed in my head for hours. What day is it? I wonder. I repeat to myself my name to make sure I'm sane still
     "Alexander Warren Capella" I thought for a moment have I missed my birthday? I bet Max was so alone...  I wonder why they gave up. Maybe they think I ran away. Maybe I should. Maybe I should hop out the window and never look back at this life. Or maybe they've just forgotten me. Maybe they never cared for me in the first place. Max my own brother has abandoned me. Has forgotten me. I DIDN'T ASK TO BE THE WAY I AM. I didn't ask for this.... I hadn't even noticed that I had tears running down my face until one hit the floor the light tick sound echoed in my head for what felt like years to me before the sound faded anyway and left me again with silence. I need to do something. I need to come out. I need human association.  I'm going absolutely insane. I can't continue doing this. I step up to my door and swing it quickly open. I fall to the floor holding my eyes as the light touches them I shout in pain. Nearly an hour of sitting there trying to get my eyes used to the light I stood up. I had scrapes and scars all over the place from my rituals that never worked. I'll just turn them into tattoos someday.  I grabbed some clothes and hopped in the shower. Why do i get this ominous feeling of being watched? That's creepy as hell. I didn't have that feeling in my room. I found myself constantly looking over my shoulder. The feeling that someone was standing behind me. It was nearly overwhelming and I can't stand it. I'm trying to better myself and stop hiding from my problems. I got out of the shower slowly. I looked in the mirror at who- no- what I have become over that abhorrent amount of time. I looked first into my eyes that were horrendously bloodshot and dull I could nearly see my own reflection in my abnormally red sclera. My irises had not changed at all, they were the same nearly milk chocolate color. My gaze fell then to the enormous void like bags under my eyes, they were nearly as dark as a bruise, a bad bruise, like the ones I got on my ribs from Justin. My complexion after that. I was ghost pale with small and large scratches littering my entire once healthy now bitterly frail slender form. I stop for a moment. What have I done to myself. I began to feel light headed knowing what I had looked like before and now I look like a meth addict. My ribs stuck out, you could see nearly every bone in my body. My face... It's almost hard to believe that Max and I were identical twins once now the only thing I would compare myself to is a horrible monster, my cheekbones stood out the most in my entire face, under my cheekbone seemed to fall in like the skin was only draped over the cheekbone and stapled to the bottom of my chin. My eyes seemed to sink into my face. My hair had grown out more the newer hair almost seemed more dull than the rest of the blonde, almost like a tint of gray was sprayed onto the 2 or 3 inches that had come in.  I almost began to cry thinking of how I've screwed myself over. I look again at what I had turned myself into and I see the scars from all the several failed attempts at trying to find answers, trying to make my mind at peace even though in reality I only managed to make everything excruciatingly more awful.

I pull that prison cell closed and go down the stairs of this empty house, where could everyone be? I wonder to myself. I see a calendar in the corner of my eye, when did I go into my room? I asked myself. It was summer. May. May the... I thought hard 17 May 17th I went in. I approach the calendar in front of me.  August. Oh my god. There's no way I was up there without anything for three months! I would be dead! I should be dead how did I survive?! My thoughts scream. I can feel my thoughts rushing through my head like a racecar driving around the inside of my skull.  There is no possible way I would have survived... I stop dead in my thoughts.The race car going 100 to 0 in a second. They just stop like someone slammed on the breaks.  No. There's no way.. I can't be.. I ran up the stairs slipping, stumbling, falling. I threw the door of that prison cell open listening to the loud crash it made against the wall. What? My eyes tear up. No. This can't be happening. I look into that awful horrendous room. What I see in there is not, not at all in any way shape or form what I expected to see, I looked into the room and saw it was completely cleaned out. A memorial in the place of the mess. I felt cold tears rolling down my face, this isn't happening to me. I approach the memorial and I see a picture of myself, A picture I remember my mom taking on my 17th birthday of Max and I. I pick it up shaking hands, as I let out a choked sob.  I set it back down where it had been before picking up the picture of mom n dad and us twins the picture that was taken the day we were born. I looked a lot like my dad, but I was a lighter blond.  I guess dad and I shared something else in common now. I set that picture down and look at the newspaper clipping that was sitting there in front of me, it was an Obituary. Mine.

      Yesterday, June 23rd his birthday,  Alexander Warren Capella Was found dead in his bedroom at his Uncle's. His Uncle says that Alexander seemed upset and went to his room, he said that every day that he would be able to see candle light under the door. When He stopped seeing it he just assumed Alexander had run away through the second story window. It was his birthday 3 days later when Mr. Capella wanted to check. Horrified by the scene in front of him he called the boy's mother who called 911. The family will hold a private Funeral  this Wednesday. It will be open to all family and friends of Alexander's.

I was a bawling mess. I set the piece of paper back down and sat down on the floor. What have I done? I ask myself as it echoes in the back of my head... I hear the front door open and hope to god that it was only some sick prank I rush down the stairs. Uncle Ryan is standing confused above the calendar I accidently left on the floor. He had bags under his eyes and he looked somewhat tired. I stood there a bit longer waiting for him to notice me, but he never did. Where's Max? I ask myself. I try to run out the door to see if he's in the car. I crash into the door I try to open it but it won't I try harder and only manage to jiggle the handle a little bit. Ryan's head shoots back looking back directly at me, but he isn't seeing me. I'm never going to see any of them again. I fall to my knees. How is this happening? What have I done? What have I become?

[So sorry it took me so long to update! I've been super busy with school n stuff plus on top of that I've had major publishing issues so Wattpad don't fail me now!]