Death was in my thoughts, my biggest obsession for quite a while. I slowly approached her, one tiny step at a time. I was frightened, because she'd made me starve, she'd made me isolate myself completely, and she'd also made me addicted to her. I couldn't get away; death was scary, but there was something about her that I found oh so comforting.
I know it was not my fault. It was their fault, always their fault. So many people carry the blame for this without even knowing. I hope, one day, they feel the same pain they inflicted on me, and they face the consequences of the sadness it will unleash. I will be there to salt their wounds and laugh in their faces, like they once did to me. Sometimes they did it without even noticing, like it was nothing. I will be having the time of my life watching them suffer.
I have never wanted to hurt anybody this bad. I always turned the other cheek, and I was always stepped on; they just loved how noble I was, because they knew they could hurt me as many times as they wanted, and I would always be there for them. Not this time. I hate all of them. Almost all of them.
He was an angel who took me away from death. One day, after one of those demons pushed me to the edge, I took off running towards death. Nobody knew but him, because he was my only reason for staying. It's not that he wasn't enough; the problem was that the pain was already too much. Pain is merciless, it did not care about how much he loved me. I was running towards death, encouraged by pain and the horrible demons that brought it into my life.
I failed. I could not reach death. I still wish I had died, since nothing has improved. My angel is still with me, but I do not deserve his beautiful soul. Also, he does not deserve the kind of darkness that radiates from me. He deserves only smiles and kindness and so much love from a heart that is as perfect as his. I can not provide that.
I disappeared. Only he knew where I really was, and only he went looking for me. None of the demons cared; none of them know how bad they hurt me. For three weeks I was in a limbo I could not get out of. My angel visited me briefly whenever he could, and it was the only good part of my day. I always counted down the minutes until I could see him, and then went back to swallowing the knot in my throat along with three tiny pink pills. Sweet sweet quetiapine.
Three weeks I spent in this limbo. I made friends there, even with the ones who had the power, because I would do anything to get out. The demons have no idea. Even though they belong in hell, they live in heaven. I was in a limbo, a place where torture is purely mental. If you are not crazy, you definitely will be when you spend some time there.
To be honest, I want revenge. I want a punishment for the monsters who thought my life was theirs to toy with. I want them to suffer, and think of me. I want them to feel worthless every single day, to be used by everyone around them, to get yelled at when the noise inside their heads is already too loud. The only problem is, I am crazy, while they are sane. I don't know if these things happen to them, I don't know if they are capable of feeling this much pain.
Their lives are fucking perfect. They have friends, they have a family, a nice home. I bet they have never starved a whole day because there isn't enough food, and I bet their parents fucking love them. Mom? She is the one who yells all the time, no matter what I do or stop doing. Dad? He is the one who hits me and screams how much of a failure I am. I bet these demons have a better life, just because they are not crazy.
I don't have to see them everyday anymore, but they insist on torturing me. I see them every time I close my eyes. My angel tells me I should be happy, since they are finally out of my life. But they're not, and they never will be. The trauma, the scars, and the hurtful words will never leave me. While they are out there living their lives, I am stuck here, thinking about them. What they have done to me will never pass; they have ruined my life. I hate them, because all I ever wanted was for them to care about me.
Now I am trapped, because I want to chase death, but there is something holding me back. It's not like I have much to live for, so I don't understand. All I will ever amount to is pain and suffering, and a burden is all I will ever be. I wish I could just run to her, but I am afraid I will fail and go back to the limbo. The problem is, nobody really needs me here either, so there is really no point in staying. I am torn, and this dilemma haunts me right before those hideous demons invade my dreams.
All I can do now is wait for death to approach me.
And I am not frightened of dying.
Any time will do, I don't mind.
Why should I be frightened of dying?
There's no reason for it, you've gotta go sometime.
If you can hear this whispering you are dying
