If you came for a story about love and happinesses with a happy ending, I suggest you leave now. My life has never been "happy". I've never experienced the blissful lie of people around you pretending everything is alright. To put it simply I don't have people to pretend with. I'm alone, well as alone as I'm aloud to be.
These walls and rooms never change. The people only get older and someday we will all die. That's why I don't get close. Not that anyone ever made an effort to get closer. I feel that if someone, anyone would have tried to get close I would let them. If someone pushed at the invisible walls I caged myself in, I'd let them in. So easily, because the truth is I'm sick of it here. I'm tired of hiding, pretending I don't want anyone. I'm so desperate for a person to talk to me. A living person.
No, I'm here. The people here don't talk. Not the living ones at least. I used to be scared of the ones who speak at night. The silent whispers of the Dead.
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Whispers Of The Dead
General FictionTyler lived the same old boring life inside the "safe" walls of the hospital. Never talking to any of the others. He just listened. After a tragic war ends it leaves Tyler alone all over again. He can no longer hide behind the hospital. The hospita...
