It’s so bitter. So cold. The rain outside my window hammers against the glass. The droplets create an illusion as if my window is crying, but sadly it doesn’t have the luxury to.
I sit curled up in the corner. Looking at all the small details helps me forget. The world is truly a cruel place. As dark as the heart of a criminal.
Life is just as cruel. He hides beneath a mask, unlike Death. I like Death. She’s honest, real. We all grow to accept her but we still don’t like her. Death should be treated just like Life. She gives us new opportunities to relive better than our past selves.
Life is deceptive, tricky, frightening. He didn’t take from me, he was generous. But generosity comes at a price. Yes, he gave me a home, a family, and good health. But the home was a prison. My family were the wardens. My good health meant I could endure more.
It wasn’t long until I learned to shut down. I removed my self emotionally and stayed neutral. I studied hard and earned high grades. I plastered a smile on and pretend. Before I knew it, I didn’t have emotions anymore. No amount of kisses from my lover or dead bodies I am forced to see in a coffin could make me feel something inside. Love was foreign and sadness was constant.
This still continues till this day, and no one knows a thing.