This story is dedicated to my dear friend Kelsey-chan and to all of those who have lost a loved one and those who are deeply depressed.
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As I Sit Here...
By: Ryuusei Houkou
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As I sit here, writing, I'm not aware of the rest of the world, nor do I think I know what I am writing. I don't know why I am writing, as if I am in a trace that I cannot break free of.
My hair is slick from the rain, and my clothes cling to my body; thank god I am wearing black. I stare above; the drops fall carelessly down my face, like cold tears. I make no gesture to brush them away. If I do, more would come, then it would be a never-ending process. So I just let them fall, along with my tears.
I am broken and shattered, like apiece of glass that has broken to many pieces, and all of them coming from the mirrors within me. Those mirrors kept me alive, but one by one, they fell to the stone ground, and broke.
God, it hurts to write. I can feel my blood running down my skin and mixing with the rain. The crimson waters cascade down my clothes and fall to the ground beside me. The water gathers there, forming a small pool of rain, my tears, and my blood. But I mustn't stop writing, even though I feel faint.
Why must all of the people who I have ever loved die right before my eyes, and yet, I stood there, hopeless to help them. I can remember the terror in their eyes, the voices that call out for me, and the shrieks before they collapse. It seems like it has just happened; I remember it so clearly. And it haunts me.
It haunts me to know and watch a friend of mine; one who used to be a friend kill m loved ones. I was betrayed by that selfish little bitch, and that led me and my family to our deaths. She believed it was me who betrayed her instead, and stalked me for many years, 'till now. It ended here.
My hands shake with anger, fear, and pain as memories came back to me. That girl has fatally wounded me, and with little time to spare, I write. Why write and not go to a hospital? I have been running for far too long. I am weary of the many years of chase that this has led me to, and I am accepting my fate. A battle happened here not long ago. I was tired, tired from this long battle. I let her destroy me.
Why must this world we live in be so difficult, this reality??!! But is it reality? Everyone says it exists for everyone else, so it must be reality, the perfect place for everyone to live in. But I don't see it as a perfect world. Nothing can be perfect. Instead, I see the truth, the truth that no one else wants to know.
I see not a perfect place to live in, but a horror movie that has come to life. The blood that taints the steel of knives and swords, the fear in one's hearts, and the pain before they die. The blood that marks where one has died, staining everything in a crimson red. The blood drips...and drips...and drips...as a memory of truth and what has happened.
Why must life be this way? Why must it be so difficult and cruel?
I am slipping. It's hard for me to hang on for much longer. I can feel my soul being pulled into an endless vortex. I know that my end is near. I have accepted this fate, so I shall embrace it with open arms instead of resisting it and causing me more pain. There is nothing anyone can do, not even a miracle can save me. I want to die. Good-bye...
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RH: *stares at hands* I just wrote that??!!!
Midnight: Seems like you did. Golly girl, what has gotten into you to write such a depressing story?
RH: I don't know...
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As I Sit Here...
By: Ryuusei Houkou
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As I sit here, writing, I'm not aware of the rest of the world, nor do I think I know what I am writing. I don't know why I am writing, as if I am in a trace that I cannot break free of.
My hair is slick from the rain, and my clothes cling to my body; thank god I am wearing black. I stare above; the drops fall carelessly down my face, like cold tears. I make no gesture to brush them away. If I do, more would come, then it would be a never-ending process. So I just let them fall, along with my tears.
I am broken and shattered, like apiece of glass that has broken to many pieces, and all of them coming from the mirrors within me. Those mirrors kept me alive, but one by one, they fell to the stone ground, and broke.
God, it hurts to write. I can feel my blood running down my skin and mixing with the rain. The crimson waters cascade down my clothes and fall to the ground beside me. The water gathers there, forming a small pool of rain, my tears, and my blood. But I mustn't stop writing, even though I feel faint.
Why must all of the people who I have ever loved die right before my eyes, and yet, I stood there, hopeless to help them. I can remember the terror in their eyes, the voices that call out for me, and the shrieks before they collapse. It seems like it has just happened; I remember it so clearly. And it haunts me.
It haunts me to know and watch a friend of mine; one who used to be a friend kill m loved ones. I was betrayed by that selfish little bitch, and that led me and my family to our deaths. She believed it was me who betrayed her instead, and stalked me for many years, 'till now. It ended here.
My hands shake with anger, fear, and pain as memories came back to me. That girl has fatally wounded me, and with little time to spare, I write. Why write and not go to a hospital? I have been running for far too long. I am weary of the many years of chase that this has led me to, and I am accepting my fate. A battle happened here not long ago. I was tired, tired from this long battle. I let her destroy me.
Why must this world we live in be so difficult, this reality??!! But is it reality? Everyone says it exists for everyone else, so it must be reality, the perfect place for everyone to live in. But I don't see it as a perfect world. Nothing can be perfect. Instead, I see the truth, the truth that no one else wants to know.
I see not a perfect place to live in, but a horror movie that has come to life. The blood that taints the steel of knives and swords, the fear in one's hearts, and the pain before they die. The blood that marks where one has died, staining everything in a crimson red. The blood drips...and drips...and drips...as a memory of truth and what has happened.
Why must life be this way? Why must it be so difficult and cruel?
I am slipping. It's hard for me to hang on for much longer. I can feel my soul being pulled into an endless vortex. I know that my end is near. I have accepted this fate, so I shall embrace it with open arms instead of resisting it and causing me more pain. There is nothing anyone can do, not even a miracle can save me. I want to die. Good-bye...
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RH: *stares at hands* I just wrote that??!!!
Midnight: Seems like you did. Golly girl, what has gotten into you to write such a depressing story?
RH: I don't know...
