''Just be hopeful, yes I am
Hopeful for today
Take this music and use it
Let it take you away
And be hopeful, hopeful
And He'll make a way
I know it ain't easy, but, that's okay
Just be hopeful''
Those words flowed softly from the speakers in the corner of my room. The only thing that could save me was music, nothing else. It was the only thing that could soothe me from the darkness inside that was soon swallowing me whole and leaving me empty inside. Some people would hate this, but I infact loved the way I couldn't feel anything anymore. I removed the glasses from my face and set them down on the table beside me, I took a breath and peered around the room that was dim lit by a single bulb. A flashing light caught my eye and picked up my phone that was also on the table. I unlocked it and looked through my notifications. I clicked one which had a very fimilar name appeared. I pressed it and it opened Facebook. I looked through and found nothing interesting until I read the comment the name had posted.
I felt that deep sense of hurt in the bottom of my stomach as the words flowed through my mind. I locked the phone and placed it inside the drawer and tried to forget those words. I remeber people would say to me ''Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me'' They were lies of course, I mean if they were true how come I felt the hurt that, that person had caused me through her words. Maybe they were right, people said ''Oh Ignore them''. Then I ask myself, how can you ignore someone who constantly tried to get you down, someone who constantly loves to see you in pain because it makes themselves feel better? You can't and people are too blind just to see it anymore in a society who see bullying as nothing and something that will eventully just ''go away'' It doesn't go away. You have to make it go away and it's not as easy as it seems.
Sighing I stood and exscused myself from those thoughts and padded over to my desk, I stared at the late homework assignment I just hadn't finished. It had been a month almost since that awful first day and it only got worse over the coming weeks. I hated school, but I had to put on that fake smile everytime infront my family. They never asked, I never told and I just wanted to tell someone, but I didn't know how to explain. I sat down and peered into the mirror that had been cracked in the top right corner, from when I had shoved it in anger one day. I traced my fingers along the cracks and stared at them. Somehow the cracks in the mirror represent the cracks inside me. I was broken and I knew it. I think everyone knows, just doesn't want to ask in fear that they would get dragged under and drown with me in the darkness and pain in my life they never saw. I picked up one of the penicls that was left on the table and opend one of the many black books that piled on the desk. All sketchbooks of course.
They were my escape, or rather the fact I could pour my feelings onto a single blank page and no-one would ever see them, because I kept them hidden from the world. Just like my feelings I suppose. I flicked through the pages I had half completed and started to fill in the missing blanks slowly, knowing it had to be done sooner or later.
I got up and went over to the open window, I looked out sadly and let the wind wash over me. It relieved me and killed me at the same time. The coldness reminded me of my fate and the air reminded me of the freedom the world had compared to me. A bird soared through the pink clouds of the sunset and called out its cry as it flew away. Sometimes I wish I was a bird, maybe I could fly away one day and wouldn't have to cope with the terrors of life. I read the clock 22:45. The nights were getting longer at last. I presed play on my Ipod in it's dock and let the words flow from the speakers quietly so no-one could really hear the words, except me of course. Although I didn't need to hear the words to feel the emotion they brough with their melodys.
''I thought I had myself all figured out
But I've spent my whole life holding myself down
And it seems to be that sort of thing I keep doing constantly
Addicted to the pain I cause myself
My head is floating somewhere in the clouds
While I'm paid to entertain a lively crowd
They sing my songs and feel my pain cause pain is what creates my fame
A vicious cycle some day I'll get out''
I felt as if they were mocking me those words. They explained my life
so perfeclty that it felt it was mocking
me. I lay down softy and closed my eyes, just wanting the pain to go, so I could finally live.
