Ready:Shoot;Scream

Why did I pull the trigger? (TW)

Imagine waking up every day, feeling empty inside, like there's a huge hole in your soul. You don't feel happy, just gone.

Now, imagine feeling unloved by even your family and lied to by friends, left behind by the ones you love and alone, without a soul to care for you.

Lastly, imagine you putting a gun to your head and pulling the trigger, a bit of blood splatters onto the wall beside you. Your vision quickly turns black and blood seeps through the wound. You fall against the wall, slowly sliding down towards the floor, not breathing, not feeling, until you lie down motionless.

You quickly slip away, leaving everything behind.

Soon you wake up again, or rather, open your eyes to only see complete darkness. You think you're laying down, but feel nothing under you. No ground or bed or anything. So you stretch out your hand to feel the wall, but once again... nothing.

You panic.

Where are you? What happened- didn't you pull the trigger? Shouldn't everything be over? Was this the afterlife, or were you in Hell?

Your mind goes wild with possibilities, and you try to stand up. It feels weird, like you're walking on air, but suddenly you feel a light breeze and the sharp sensation of falling through the sky. You still don't see anything, everything is black and as the sensation intensifies your eyes starts to water, not just because of the strong wind now tugging at your clothes, but because you're scared. You can almost feel the impending doom waiting for you. But you don't want that. You don't want to die!

Don't want to die?

You come to an abrupt stop. The tears roll down your cheeks and you're shaken up. And just as the euphoric feeling of being safe sets in, a dim light flashes to life a little ways in front of you. As if in a play, the sound of curtains being drawn back echoes around you and two transparent figures appear. Both look like young girls with long hair and one of them seems to be reading a newspaper.

Oh my god, someone down the streets killed themselves yesterday. How terrible!

Seriously? Who was it? Someone from school?

Nichole Micher? Do you know someone by that name?

No, do you?

No, but apparently she went to our school.

You recognize those voices. They're your friends, or at least so you thought. But why didn't they recognize your name? You were in the same class, you'd known each other for over ten years. How had they forgotten about her?

You're filled with a bitter-sour feeling, you feel betrayed by your friends. How could they forget?

You turn around and start walking while wiping away the tears, one after another, as they trickled down. To your surprise, it feels like you're walking on something hard, like a floor or something alike, though you still can't see and the air around you feels heavy.

After walking for a while another light flashes to life and you stop in your tracks. Once again, the sound of curtains being drawn back, and you see at least a hundred transparent figures sitting down in front of a stage. A bigger, perhaps older figure is standing behind a podium on the stage, his voice bouncing around in the darkness, and behind him hangs a sign reading "In memory of Nichole, you will be missed". The man's voice sounded uninterested, like he just wanted this over and done with. He spoke of you as if he didn't know you, although you knew it was your homeroom teacher, a man known throughout the school to care deeply for all his students. Had he forgotten about you as well?

Suddenly, you hear voices whisper amidst everyone.

Seriously, why do we have to waste our time with this crap? So boring, and who was she anyway? Never heard of her.