//ALTER//

i.i

"I wish...I wish I were in a different life where everything is so much better than this life I'm in." It came out choked and strained as I felt my throat tighten at another wave of tears.

I never seem to run out of tears to cry and things to cry about.

See, today has been one of the days when nothing was at my favor; when the world just decided to blindly hurl all the bags of misfortune and I caught and took the blows of it.

Like how a van just randomly crashed into the passengers seat of the car I was driving while entering an intersection; like how I was blamed for the car accident (obviously, it wasn't) by my own mother that was followed by lovely strings of offensive and degrading insults and unnecessary name-calling that came with slaps on the face, banging of fists on my head like a fucking bongo drum, and gripping fistful of my hair as I'm dragged around the house.

I wish I were being dramatic and exaggerated with all the mentions of violence, but that's just my reality and I despise all of it.

The car accident and the latter ugly events made me realize how desperately I want to die. Everything made me so eager to want to die.

On the flip side of things, my best friends comforted me; something I never got from my mother (and she wonders why I'm emotionally distant from her).

Patrick, my best best friend ever since Junior high school, offered to have a mac and cheese and a large box of pizza to be delivered at my house tonight, but I declined. It was really thoughtful and sweet of him, though.

Sadly, none of the little good things, not even the accident that's supposed to turn my life around, made me want to live, nor did it spark a small ounce in me to want to keep living, which isn't really odd for me, but for you, it might be.

I don't know. A small part in me is still hoping that I'd get comforted by my mother. It hurts less simply realizing that I've been a burden to her ever since she lost her job due to the company she worked at being closed for bankruptcy, because it's quite pricey to survive a day; than being explicitly told by your own mom how she'd be better off had I never existed- it absorbs through my tough exterior and seeps into my flesh and through my bones, hurting me like the worst chemical poison ever.

We used to live a lavish life, but I wasn't spoiled. I was taught to appreciate the value and worth of money and other things. My mom was nicer when she had all the money. She was at the height of her career and she almost had everything until, four years ago, the company she was working at reached bankruptcy and had to close.

I noticed how her light, positive, and cheerful attitude just took a 180° flip and suddenly she became this short-tempered, pessimistic, heartless woman.

I understood her. I still do. I always have even if her words and her fists would beat me down to pulp on bad days such as this one- either it's the influence of me studying Psychology; that there's always a deeper issue behind people's actions, words, reactions, expressions, etc.

Or simply because I've always strived to be a better person than my mother. I don't want anyone to feel misunderstood. I don't want anyone's stormy emotional outbursts to be overlooked and be reciprocated with the same negative outburst.

I turned my head to the direction of the large sliding window I my room, where the moonlight is currently shining through the clear glass, casting a wide and soft rectangular white light on the floor, as if I'm presented an option to sneak out thru that window and run away.

I've been longing for freedom.

When will it come to me? When will I be able to seize freedom?

My eyelids were getting heavier as my body relaxed and my exhaustion took place.

Maybe my dreams would have mercy on me tonight and take me to some dream life better than this one.