Chapter 1
(This is a really short story so there won’t really be chapters it’ll just be this. Sorry! Also this is just an idea so it's not really good/ specific.)
Dear future me, or future you,
I did not mean to do it. You do not understand the kind of pressure I was under. I had to help him. I had to. He would have…. Never-mind. You already know what happened. I do not even know why you would bother to read this or why you are even here. After what happened I would think that you would never want to come back here. But maybe you want to come back and torture yourself. Do not worry. It was not your fault and you should not torture yourself over it. I did and look where that got me. I come back here often. To feel something or try to change the past. I know I could have done something to fix this mess. But I did not and there is no changing that now. There is no changing that ever. Not in this universe or the next. Not in reality or in the dreams that we both have been having. The dreams of that week. But only Sunday. Oh how I would love to dream of Wednesday or Tuesday. Sadly, those fun and happy days will only be in my memories. Oh, I am rambling again. Please excuse me. I am quite lonely nowadays. I do not wish to cause anyone else pain again. I already am the root of the suffering of my friends. I have found that writing is a good thing to use my time on. Even though cleaning would probably be better. He always tells me that he will clean and I should write. Then he does not clean even the smallest bit of dust. I try to tell myself that he is not real. I know he is not real. My mind likes to play tricks on me just how I would play tricks on you and him. I miss you. But if you are reading this, that means I have either died or finally built up the courage to leave and stop torturing myself. Torturing myself over his death.
My condolences,
James.
