Even the prettiest flowers wilt away

10:47 pm, Sept. 4

     Connor sat on the carpet of his dark room, staring out his window. He felt, he didn't know, maybe burning would be the right word? Yeah, or forgotten, freakish, or like a monster. Any of those words suited him well. He was exactly that, he was nothing, a monster to those he knew, to those he loved. He could never be what they wanted, what they needed.

     Tonight seemed strange in some way. Like the stars-most probably dead or gone by now-were keeping a secret from him that he needed to know. Something that would impact his life, like a tsunami or earthquake, something catastrophic. Maybe not catastrophic, but something that would turn his world upside down. He pondered the thought, he wanted, no, he craved for something good. He just wanted something that wouldn't end in yelling or screaming. Something that could get him out of this sort of abyss he had fallen into the last few years. Was that so much to ask!

     It was late, well not really, it was only 10:51 by now, but his sister, Zoe, was most likely asleep, tired by her hour long phone call with Alana. Connor wished he had someone to talk to, but when your that kid at school who has anger issues and who is always smoking or doing drugs, there's little chance someone will want to confront you, unless for so e sort of insult. He guessed he had gotten used to it, when your own family doesn't want anything to do with you, random strangers seemed microscopic, like the stars. Tiny and (especially where he lived) invisible. So small due to the atmosphere, one could consider these stars a miracle. But, it would take more than a few stars to make him feel okay, with his luck, it would take an entire galaxy. It would take a humongous miracle for him to make a friend, or even meet someone who would interact him with in a positive way. And to be honest, that was all he needed, someone who would merely like him. 

     He never really believed in soulmates, while the idea that someone was meant for him was a dream, it just seemed too good. Like if someone told you your crush liked you, or if someone you hated and who hated you gave you a gift. It just seemed suspicious. Why would someone only be meant for you. The whole soulmate thing was just, strange. Though he hoped, he dreamed, he prayed that it was true. That he would meet them, and they would like him. Maybe even love him. He played with the petals on his rose. Now, even if he didn't believe in them, it was still the only reason he stuck around. Not for his rude and homophobic father, (if you could even call him that) not for his mother who treated him like a lab experiment, not even for his stuck up sister who wouldn't even care if he disappeared. No, he did it for them, the person who was waiting for him as well. He just wished he would hurry up and meet them...if he had one.

     He stared at the bright red scars covering his wrists. God, he couldn't help but feel sorry for who has to deal with his suicidal personality, with his depression, with his anger, with him. He covered the scars once again with his the sleeves of his hoodie. He was a mess in every way, physically and mentally. He just wished he could disappear, could just not wake up tomorrow, to leave this hell called "Earth". Still, if he did that, it wouldn't harm him, his family, but his soulmate, he couldn't imagine just watching the petals curl up and die. Knowing that you were now forever alone. He brought his knees to his chest, wrapping his bony arms around his legs. He laid his head on his knees, feeling a wave of emotionlessness flow over him. After a few moments, he fell into darkness, not knowing the monumental moments that would occur only the next day.

(687, not too bad. A little shorter, but who cares. I hope I did an okay job with Connor, I just felt a little more comfortable with Evan since I also have anxiety, but this came with ease too. I've started reading the book, so I'm trying to incorporate things from it)