(Carolina)
It's 9 o'clock in the morning. Heat from the sun is creeping from the sheer ends of the curtains. I'm still in my room facing the ceiling above me. It was the same color as the clear sky, my favorite. The curtains we're not drawn and there's very little light to be used to reveal what's supposedly bright and colorful painted walls surrounding me. Still lying in my bed, I reach out to grab my blanket hanging below my messed up bed.
I want to die. I imagine the glittering tears falling off the faces of people weak enough to pour their heart out over my carcass excites me. It gives me chills that regret, anger and confusion were filling their heart. It flutters me knowing that I am the cause of their suffering.
That is the kind of thought that keeps me up late at night and makes me fell deep in a deathlike sleep.
It bothers me a little how thoughts seems so natural. I knew it's not healthy, but I just can't help myself. It's been 2 decades of being here and existing has taken the toll out of me. Breathing is easy. Opening my eyes is bearable. Living is somewhat endurable. But doing everything at once is pure madness. What makes life great? Everybody seems to be enjoying this thing. It's not really that awesome, It's messed up and everyone is oblivious about it.
It's Saturday today and I'm planning to spend my precious weekend by sleeping and reading. The thing that keeps me going is the existence of books, music and coffee. Through books, I access countless wonders from this world to another. Books make me feel free. Simply by reading, I can be whoever the heroin is, in a way, it makes me feel special and powerful and important.
I spent another minute staring at my ceiling, drowning in my thoughts. Doing nothing but breathing, blinking and I guess my heart inside me is pumping blood desperately keeping me alive. I'm alone and I thought it's going to be like this forever. Being all by yourself is not sad, it's being neglected that is. Social convictions has forced us to follow some rules that are actually aren't. These rules existed because the general public thought it was good. Like going to school, getting a job and getting married.
Getting married? hell no.
That's the cycle everyone has decided to devote the rest of their life. If you took a path other than what was set before you, you will be termed to as unconventional. You will be labeled like it was something not a normal person would do. Of course these rules are not written, it was passed on to us from our ancestors like tradition and we allowed it to dictate us even if it's completely messed up. One thing I hate about it is the lacking of other options. I hate being cornered and I don't give a damn about what others would think. I myself is an individual. I hate rules. I hate being restricted. And I hate my life.
A knock came out of nowhere made me come back to reality. My eyes are now diverted to the purple colored door. I hate purple. I hate disturbance and I hate attention.
"What!?" I yelled. I rub my eyes trying to figure what time I fell I fell asleep last night.
"James is here" My dad's voice sounded a little nervous yet still authoritative at the same time.
James. What the heck is he doing in my house? in a Saturday?
"In a minute!".
Oh no. no no no no! I can't face him, not after what happened last week.
No, not that guy.