Blurred Souls (Editing)

Chapter 19

To my surprise, it was a boy, probably my age, crying his eyes out. I could make out his features in the moonlight that showed clearly at just that moment.

"Um hey?"

The figure finally regarded me with watery eyes, probably, "who are you?" His voice was calmer, now, almost sleepy.

"I'm someone you probably don't want to know," I finally said, sitting on the chair next to him.

His tone became higher,"Why?Are you a devil?"

"Um I can be at times..."

"Everyone thinks I have the perfect life," He sniffled, holding back the next flow of tears from falling. "Just because I'm rich, and have good grades doesn't mean I have a perfect life, my life's anything but perfect."

I nodded, my eyes focusing in on my surroundings. "No one's life is perfect."

"My dad is going to marry some bimbo who he had just met on the road, and my mum had just died recently. He's a heartless dog. I hate him."

He's drunk he won't remember our conversation later, I thought, I'd always wanted to share my secrets with someone, instead they were stuck in my heart, my mind, my soul.

"My stepfather is about to marry some bimbo too," I laughed humorously, "he always hated me, I reminded him of my dead mum."

My dead mum, you're turning into a cold-herated person, just like your stepfather.

"No one likes me if that makes you any better," I continued in a bitter voice,"no one."

"Hey," the mysterious boy drunkly said," You're amaz--zing, alright? We both share a sad life, cheers!"

He continued drinking from his glass as he looked at the breathetaking view folded before us.

"I wish I could kill them both, my mum loved him so much, she was the perfect wife anyone could as for, and she's dead. Dead." He whispered the last part as sobs were heard, and I've realized he was crying again.

I rubbed his arm awkwardly, "I've dealt with this shit for years, it's alright to cry, sometimes crying is the only option for us, we cry, and it makes us feel better, even though deep inside we are breaking more with every second that passes."

  "You sound like a poet."

We laughed, perhaps a broken soul can heal another broken soul.

"I want to become a writer, if that's possible." I grinned, for a brief moment, I imagined myself as a writer, but I know my dream will never come true, I was hopeless and  worthless, it was as if I had dropped in a massive hole. As a result I grew up with pain and lack of confidence.

"I'd be the first to read your book." He said, wiping his tears with back of his hand.

"You're so cheesy when you're drunk, I'm sure you won't remember any of this tomorrow,"

"No," He shook his head and his forhead furrowed."I must remember this, I will, I promise."

Having a conversation with a drunk person is so much better than having a conversation with a sober one. You can pour your heart to that person, and they will forget about it the next day.

"Poor Alex, his life is much terrible than mine."

"Alex as in Alex Blake," I questioned, taking a sip of the bottle.

"That boy's life suck more than cindrella's. I was always jealous of him, he is so hooot," he took a deep breathe,"But life doesn't work that way, Life turns us into people we never dreamt of becoming,"

With another sip of the drink, I said,"The world is a terrible place, cruel, pitiless, dark as a bad dream. Not a good place to live. Only in books could you find pity, comfort, happiness - and love. Books loved anyone who opened them, they gave you security and friendship and didn't ask anything in return; they never went away, never, not even when you treated them badly."

"You really sound like a poet."

I laughed, the sound of my laughter was off, but he didn't seem to notice.

"His stepfather is an arsehole, beating Alex was always the first choice, I just can't believe this, how can a man be this heartless?"

With the darkness came a deafening silence that consumed my attentiveness, the sound of my breathing shrieking in and out through my nostrils, my mind was  blank, completely blank empty.