smoke and fire » peter pan

Can you save my bastard soul?

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I don't usually strap author's messages on my works, but I'll try when I have something important to announce or something like that. 

Basically just wanted to let you all know the quote 'The truth is.... I'm not proud of my ignorance towards it." is something I wrote not that long ago, when I had sort of like a melt down. I just remember sobbing while reading it over after I wrote it, idk just felt moving. To me at least.

Anyways, I thought it might fit in here, so I did a little editing to cope it with the story. I sent that quote/essey in for a competition - fingers crossed I actually win this time! ;-;

Comment, vote, read and enjoy. I love when I see any kind of feedback from you guys. :3

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I was in Neverland. The Neverland.

But I couldn't find it real unless I merged it with a little bit of my normal life. Therefore I repeated when ever necessary.

My name is Lyla Jackson. I live in a little town in the US. I have a brother, Louis. I'm still a teen, going to school. 16, to be exact. Well, in a few months 17. 

I managed to ruin my own train of thoughts. But it didn't make any much of a difference anyways. I figured I could use my time here for the best.

I'm in Neverland. Peter Pan is here with me. He also cured my back when I fell on the island, somehow. 

I continued my list, getting my conscious mind to waken for who knows what time today.

Now that I think about it, I've always dreamt to be here, but that wish faded away since I was about 14. I remember my mother calming me down when I had 'mental breakdowns'. I used to literally break down on my knees, screaming, crying. All that because my own thoughts scared me. The thoughts of what happens after life. The pit of darkness where I won't be able to think, to speak or move. Eternal darkness.

I've lost faith in deities, as well, but's that's only because I chose the side of science and logic.

The truth is, painful or not, I don't want to die. I'm afraid to. And just the mere thought of not being able to think, to feel, to be isolated from the world in eternal darkness terrifies me. 

So if it makes me a coward, greedy and disrespectful for what I already have, then yes - I accept all those names. I'd rather be all that I'm not just so I could not live my life in fear of the day I exhale my final breath. Because that day could be any day. It could be next year, it could be next month, next week, tomorrow even. I could die at any moment from a spread fatal disease, and my existence on this planet would be irrelevant. So how could I change that when every day, every second of every minute the fear is taking a ride on my back, pulling me down from all my hopes and dreams.

For years I've concealed it, telling my self everything will be okay if I just don't overthink.

If I just don't question the path every human being will take.  But after all this time, I can't. I just can't conceal the pain that I feel for what will happen to me, to everyone around me.  I'm going to live with the fact that I've seen the two people that raised me, leave me. The guilty image of being at their funeral, seeing them pass on into their graves like they're nothing else but strangers.

When in reality, they're not.

They gave life, and they cherished it until their ends. And watching them go for the last time, it just opens up what I've tried to hide away. The pain, the internal screaming, it's too much for me to handle anymore.