Untitled Document

The Beginning of the End

Chat log 1

All previously deleted text has been recovered and italicised for reader comprehension

Nithead: I'm sorry

Nithead: I didn't mean to sound the way I did

Nithead: I know you're at a difficult time

Nithead: And it was selfish of me to tell you how I feel felt

Nithead: Right when you were the most confused

Nithead: You have every right to be scared

Nithead: And to want to pretend that we were never friends

Nithead: But

Nithead: I don't want it to end like this

Nithead: Please talk to me

Nithead: When I said that I loved you, I meant it. I care, and I care about more than whether you feel the same. I still want to be your friend.

Kitcat: Um

Kitcat: I can’t don’t know what to say

Kitcat: It's just…

Kitcat: I know I reacted badly I mean, I sprinted away from you. I know I shouldn’t have done that, but it was just too much, and…

Nithead: It's fine

Nithead: I don't blame you

Nithead: Even if I did teach you better excuses than 'Um, my mum's come two hours early'

Kitcat: But I do

Kitcat: I was truly terrified of I was just overwhelmed

Kitcat: the last thing I wanted was to make you feel bad

Nithead: Cat

Nithead: Cat, it isn't the rejection that made me feel bad

Nithead: but did you have to fucking sprint away? I just wanted to talk to you. I was expecting it

Nithead: I just wanted you to know how I felt before you left to go forget me

Kitcat: I want to tell you how I feel but I can’t word it the way I want to. I really don’t know what to do. Why did I have to run? I don’t know, Nita.

Kitcat: I want some time alone. Just to figure things out.  I can't really speak to you for a while

Kitcat: I’m sorry

Nithead: Cat

Nithead: Please

Nithead: Why is it that people tell you have nothing left to lose when you confess?  I want to say that you can't avoid me forever

Nithead: But that's not true any more

Kitcat: I have a thousand things to say to you but not yet. I just can’t right now.  Goodbye, Nita.

Recording 1

I feel terrible. Everything happened so suddenly. The day I was leaving for Bermuda, Nita told me everything. I can't say it wasn't a shock; it was. I was so confused that I didn't know what to do. So I ran, as far away from Nita as I could. I left in the plane four hours later, which is where I am now.

-Darling, there's the vegetarian pasta or the chicken curry. Which would you like?-

Pasta, please. Thank you. Sorry, that's my mum asking what I want for dinner.

I should probably end this recording. It was a silly idea to do it without Nita anyway. I don't really know what to say. Well, actually I do, but I just can't put it into words. I told Nita that I wouldn't speak to her for a while, or at least 'til I figured some things out.

-You told Nita what? She's your best friend, Katherine! You can't just-

...maybe the plane wasn't the best place to record this.

-Did you and Nita fall out? You have to talk to her again. You can't just leave her like that Katherine, it isn't right-

Okay, bye

-No, Katherine-

Account thing that I meant to do with Lady Katherine the Olympic sprinter

So
Hello. Wow, I never realised that a glorified journal would be this awkward. I mean, I intended for people to read this, and I have called it an 'Account', but I feel like a crazy person talking to themselves. Still, I shouldn't quit now. Let's try this again and pretend I'm not insane.

Hi! I'm your narrator, an internet teen. I'm feeling bored and I'm scared of the void, so

                          ~

                    ~~~~~~

              ~~~~~~~~~~~

          ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    ~~~~Whoop De Doo~~~~

          ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

              ~~~~~~~~~~~

                    ~~~~~

                        ~

You get to read My Legacy, or Inane Ramblings. Let's be real. Why would you? I got 70% in English writing. I am neither a talented writer nor teen in general. Furthermore, this ‘Account’ is either lurking on a home computer or on a terrible writing platform with almost no reads. Why are you looking for it? Nobody wants to read about the world going to pieces when it's happening. Presumably, I am now a relic of history, or you're just morbidly curious. Maybe you're studying this for a class project? 'Behold children, a specimen of the horrifying society that murdered our wondrous homeworld!’

Speaking of murdered things,
congratulations on making it into the account at all. Clearly the internet, (and you, dear reader) hasn't disappeared into the void yet, like all land on this hellscape of a planet. It'll be a tragedy when it does; all that information will have vanished forever. But I digress. I'm sure there was a point I was planning on making.

(I hate it when people say 'ah yes’ in writing, because nobody gasps in real life, but it's the closest thing there is. Forgive me.)

Ah, yes. The whole sociopath thing.  The figurative cherry on top of the metaphorical...cake? Ice cream? Take your pick. Here's the deal. I am a person incapable of love and emotion. Of course, it isn't quite that bad, but sometimes it’s hard to believe that I'm not a monster. I look at my own relatives and can't feel anything but disgust as snot oozes from their nose when they cry. The only person I know who deserves to live is gone. I drove her away. That is, the only person who deserves to live and isn't related to me. Get the picture? I am a despicable human being, and I intend to put it to good use. Please, spare me the pity, hate and other miscellaneous emotions. I’ve already thought it, whatever it is. How about we make a deal? I'm going to pretend that you're my conscience*, because I sure as hell don't have one, and you can stay on your moral high ground. You are my hind-sighted moral compass to help me later realise that I should not have sprayed that man in the eyes with a can of deodorant, and that I should have cared when everyone's homes melted into the literal sea of acid. Congrats. Enjoy. Cringe. I don't know. Whatever.

*Warning
Accepting this post may include the connotations of losing your patience and sanity.