Saving Angelo

Twenty-Two - Angelo's Soliloquy.

Chapter Twenty-Two.

My name is Angelo Greene, and I am dying.

Have I got your attention?

I'm stuck in this limbo, this purgatory, this coma-like trance. I can feel but I cannot move, but all I want to do is talk.

So I'm talking to you.

The worst feeling in the world is being alone. No one wants solitude. No one wants to be ignored. No one really wants to be abandoned. 

The feeling of abandonment and solitude, the feeling that you're being left out, the feeling that you will never really be included the feeling of jealousy. These are the emotions that can strip someone down and rid them of their humanity.

What you start with is an innocent child, pure and unharmed, a child whose laughter brightens the white light around them, and every so often, they'll touch someone's heart. For a while, their aura shines bright.

But a storm will brew. Tainted, tainted, tainted by unwanted thoughts, destroyed by their perception of themselves, distraught by their peers. A pure soul's aura dims to a humming grey, a cloud of thunder crackles around them, and everything is wrong.

One day its everything and the next its nothing, and the next it's something but what is it? They've lost track. There's too much sadness, too much, anger, too much hopelessness, too much too much too much –

And then there's the next day. That one day, a good day, one that shines brighter than the silver moonlight, and maybe there is hope. Maybe they're not alone, maybe there is happiness, maybe there is a point. A point to continue. Because on that very day, their eyes sparkle, their mouth upturns and there's not a single negative thought in their mind.

They awake the next day but the sun doesn't rise like before. It stays down and everything is back to usual and there's nothing, nothing, nothing. Nothing to say, nothing to do, nothing to feel. Nothing to live for.

All because of these initial feelings. These emotions that we're burdened with at birth and forced to carry around with us, free will out of the question.

And everything's a mess. Just like their mind, just like this description, just like this story.

The story of saving me. Saving Angelo.

Except it's not really just about me. Don't you feel the same? Haven't you ever experienced a taste of the looming depression that brews behind your eyelids, the crippling anxiety that creeps up your spine when you least expect? How about the fiery envy that burns away at your heart?

Because if you have, then I wish you luck. I wish you the very best of luck. Because as insignificant as a little sadness, or worrying, or jealousy might seem, it's just the beginning. It's just the beginning.

You'll be left like that small child; their eyes black sockets sucked by the deprivation, their spinal cord broken and their body paralysed, and their heart withered away left like a burnt wisp of a life.

This story isn't just about saving me. It's about saving you.

Author's Note:

So, not that anyone would have noticed but this book has kinda been on hiatus for 8 months.

Yeah, I'm a piece of shit.

But here I am, back again, with the shortest chapter ever about basically nothing. Its just me rambling about stupid feelings and shit, and fuck knows what else.

I wont try to explain why I havent been here for 8 months because that story needs a book in itself, but I'll just say that if you actually care, then im sorry for being a dickhead and abandoning you.

Anyway, its hot as fuck in my room as England is undergoing a serious heatwave right now, and my laptop is literally burning to the touch, so this is my queue to leave.

That's pretty much all I have to say. Don't forget to vote and comment your thoughts!

Signing off,

Meliodas.

p.s. look at this i have to change the copyright signature at the end cause ive never updated in 2017 how shit is that

p.p.s. listen to that song at the top its real old but real good

           

© 2017 Saving Angelo, (rebelsymphony). All rights reserved.