Chapter 1
Why is it that I cannot smile? Why is it every time I look in the mirror, I see the darkness swallow me up whole? Why is it impossible to not think about death? Why can I not stop thinking about cutting myself into a million pieces? I do not need help, I need happiness. Why can it never be? I feel it creep up to me every time I take a breath, a step. I wish all this hurt would just die from inside me. It pains me to see what it does to those around me. Please make it go away and give me some peace. If it goes on, I do not know what I will do.
Why should I try? Does it even have a proper meaning or a proper feeling or sound? Why should I cry? Can it change the way the world turns or how life works? Why should I love? Will it help the way they feel or how I tried? Why should I care? For everything that they have done to me, can that change? Why should I feel anything at all? Nothing makes sense, but it does not have to. All we have got to do is live for the loved ones that are left.
But is this how it will always be, the feeling of only being alone even though there are people around and in my life. We all make sacrifices but how can we live with the regret of the pain we have caused to the people that are only trying to help. One word. One hit. The sound of bones and flesh being mutilated from one wrong step. Should we really be allowed to live with the broken bones and hearts of this world? Can we be held responsible for the actions of those around us or the actions of a scared and frightened person? Such is life they say but can that really be what is left of this world?
There is never any peace, never happiness. All there is left is sadness. I feel broken. Always fake smiles and laughter. I feel I am broken. There once was love though never received. Now there is only loss with nothing left. Never letting anyone in I must surely be broken. Peace is never here, and love is never real. Must we die broken? How can someone just decide that they can be superior to everybody else in this world? I wake up to a beautiful warm sun shining through my windows, then I get up and plan for a great day that never comes. Sometimes I wonder if life is supposed to happen the way it does.
It is said that when you lose a loved one, they are with you forever. Well can it really be true? I have always welcomed death. I have even wished for it on many occasions. Today might be my last day maybe tomorrow. No one can truly be in control of our lives unless we give up one the last bit of hope.
Death would be better than this. I would be free for all these people trying to chance my life. My blood will run one last time. My tears will dry and never again fall. I will not feel like I am an outsider intruding on everyone else’s lives. I never fitted in and I finally will. I will fit in with the dead. The scars will fade, and bones will heal. But my scars are strong, my bones are weak. My one last chance is to leave this world behind. To leave this hell and never return. I may die in this world, but I will live in my own personal haven.
