So, this was a 'question for reflection' on how a reuinion or whatever with our family would be like if we were swept away and separated from everything we know for 20 years. (And yes, this was our introduction to the Odyssey.) My really bad version apparently made the teacher cry again (another one made her cry too) so I'm trying again and seeing how emotional I can get.

note: this writing is mine. these stories are mine. the only thing that doesn't belong to me is anything mentioned because while i write this disclaimer i can't think of anything. xD

AND THERE WILL BE MORE THAN ONE CHAPTER, YES. (:

Time passes. People change. Things change. Change destroys. It hurts. Change maims everything. Just imagine it: everything you know, everything you love, gone by morning, leaving you alone and forgotten.

Lost.

I see familiar faces, yet nothing about them is familiar. I don't recognize anyone. Every time I hear a friend's voice from a stranger's mouth, my heart breaks a little bit more. Crumbling, falling away, and I can feel each unique pain fresh in my chest, every waking moment. I wish I could go back. Or become numb. Welcome the sweet, delightful bliss of unfeeling, unseeing, and uncaring. Sometimes, I wish I had died on my journey. Then I would have never known such a hurt, such a pain. These people -- they've forgotten. Everything. And they pretend not to see my shining eyes, they pretend not to notice the tear that betrays me.

It's killing me.

All my life I've searched for this haven, this peace, this feeling of being loved. And in a flash, it was all gone. In that single, godforsaken flash, I died. And so did everyone else I knew. But now I'm back. And I wish I'd never left, and I wish I'd never come back. I wish I'd never been born so I'd never have to find this heaven on earth, and then know the pain and sorrow, know the heart-wrenching grief. I wish I'd never been born.

If you were lost, would you ever find your way back?

Change. Everything's changed. My parents are dead. Their parents are dead. My friends have grown up. I'm left alone, thirty-four and still fourteen, but grown up far more than anyone else should have to be. No one should ever be put through this. Ever. Because every time I look up and see the blue sky or night stars, I think of those nights when I wondered if they missed me, too. But I never gave up hope, ever. Until now.

I'm dying. I'm falling, I'm screaming.

And no one wants to hear.