Blurred Souls

ANGEL SMITHS

Three. Two. One. Make a wish.

If you’d ask me what my wish was at seven, it was to have both my mother and step-father by my side until the dull moon glows without its gleamy stars. And now, at seventeen, all I want is to take a rest from this world. Because now, at seventeen, I understood wishes were just lies to hide the ugliness of reality.

No wish could bring my mother back. No wish could make me hug her one more time and breathe in the warmth of a mother.

Sometimes, in moments like these---when I’m walking to school consumed by my thoughts and the sound of beeping cars and angry birds I can’t help but wonder why am I still alive. The hardest part of life? Living your life as a robot and giving up to the hardships of life. Having no soul to empty my heart out to and feeling trapped everywhere I go aren’t exaxctly a good mix. The worst part of the prison is, it follows me everywhere I go. It feels like a moving jail evey step I take and every breath I inhale, I have to deal with the cirumstances.

I would never call my house a home. In my opinion a home is full of love and understanding, which is the exact opposite of where I live. Mostly because of my stepfather, when I look into his eyes all I see is pure hatred for me. It all started after my mother’s death. The rage in his eyes when he stares and empties his angry on me.

What about school? I actually enjoy my classes and since it’s the only place where my stepfather isn’t, I absolutely love it. But there’s Alex Blake, the guy who makes my life hell and doesn’t give a shit about any single anything. I completely and wholeheartedly loathe that boy.

All of this is making me lose the definition of life and somewhere along the blurry lines, I gave up on finding its real meaning.

There comes a time when you look into the mirror and you realize, that what you see, is all that you will ever be. And then, you accept it. Or you kill yourself . Or stop looking into mirrors.

My steps were slow as I made my way to my high school, it was a two-story building with three hallways on each floor, and the main hallway downstairs leading to the cafe, and the gym. One more year and I’m out of here. One more year and I’m free. One more year.

As I arrived to my locker, I turned the combination for my locker, and as I got to the second set of numbers, I felt someone tap my shoulder, I whipped around and was met with a pair of brown eyes that I grew to ignore: Alex Blake.

I let out a small breath as I tried to focus on anything but him. To sum it all up, Alex and I never meet unless he wants a punching bag. And that for some reason is me.

What does he want now? I thought as I tried to avoid looking at him. My thoughts were a thunderstorm and I was trying weakly to stay strong.

“What Ale--” in one quick motion Alex roughly grabbed me by the arm. I was used to it, really. I didn’t exactly have a normal family.

This world that I live in is empty and cold and the loneliness cuts me and tortures my soul. For flash of an instant, I could see how lonely I truly am. How deep this feeling runs, and it scares the shit out of me to be this lonely.*

Let me tell you this: if you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it’s not because they enjoy solitude. It’s because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them.*

Fighting back the insult threatening to escape, I tried to take a deep breath. Alex’s eyes were bloodshot red as he tightly held my arm and slammed me against my locker. I was stuck in a daze, my head throbbing from the intense pain, why was he doing this again and again?

Ignoring the sound of gasps and eyes burning right into my soul, I managed to open my eyes to face him, and his fist slowly approached the locker next to me. Out of nowhere, I caught a glimpse of Alex’s friend Ryan running towards us, “She’s not worth your time bro.” Ryan said.

He grabbed and yanked Alex off of me, I slumped down to the floor and took a set of deep breaths, biting my lips in anger at my stupid self. When I fight back, I get insulted. When I don’t fight back, I still get insulted.

Why Alex? What did I ever do to you? Bullying me for two years already, hasn’t it been enough?