Dear Thought book

Letting Go❄

             Hi. I'm alive. I'm kicking. I have some stuff I have to get off my chest. But I don't think I'm strong enough to do so right now. So here's a short story. Also, I'll be writing a few more chapters and then I'm closing this book. No, I'm not killing myself or anything drastic like this. I just think it's time to close this chapter in my life and ~let go~ as the title implies. I might start up another one (thinking of naming this one Dear Thought Book: College Life) but I don't know.
      So without further ado; leggo:

      She stood on the stage. Facing an empty theater. She checked her watch. 1:23pm. Seems the others were running late. Or they just didn't care to show up. It was becoming increasingly difficult to tell the difference nowadays. So she stood there on the stage. Waiting. Humming a tune about heartbreak that never seemed to elude her thoughts no matter what else she listened to.

         Should I sing? she thought. No one was here after all. Who would hear her pathetic weak voice echo in this empty theater? There was no one to criticize her pitch. Or tell her that she stood like a penguin. Or her mouth spread out too wide. Or that she wasn't dressed for the part. A hoodie and jeans? Really? Who was ever going to take her seriously or think she was pretty enough to be the star when she dresses like that? No wonder the boys pay no notice.

           Standing and waiting. The long sleeves of her hoodie hanging beyond her wrists from the times she had stretched them to cover her knuckles when she was cold or nervous. She got nervous a lot. She clasped her hands together as she often did when she felt lonely. It was the only hand she had held in a long time.

        Suddenly a spotlight shines or her face. "Well?" a disembodied voice said from somewhere deep in the sea of seats. It was too dark to tell where and  the voice had the charisma of a male but the softness that was considered feminine. "Going to sing us something? Or perhaps recite some poetry."

     "I don't sing. And I certainly don't do poetry" she said, raising her hand to cover her eyes from the blinding spotlight. "Aw, come on. Everyone's a poet if they look in deep enough".
"Not me". She was getting a little annoyed as the light hurt her eyes a bit.

      "Surely, you have things you want to get off your chest?" the voice without a body said. It seemed to be prodding her. The light like a finger poking her to speak. She didn't like it. "No. I'm fine" she snaps a bit. "And even if I did, why would I unbear my loads to you."

         " Ah. But who better to spill your guts to than a stanger who can't use them against you?" the voice seemed amused. Which did nothing but anger her more. She wanted to leave. But she didn't move. Almost like her body was being compelled to stay still. "Fair point. But I have nothing to share"

       "But I disgaree. We're all made of stories. Surely you have a thing or two on your mind"

"Except I don't. What's it to you" this time she did snap. For it seemed with every inquiry the voice made the spotlight's beam intensified making her increasingly uncomfortable and agitated"

"You're getting rather upset for someone with nothing on her mind" the voice taunted. Clearly amused at this point.

"You know what? I don't have to deal with this. I'll just leave" picking up her bag that was on the ground beside her, getting ready to make her exit
How did you even get in here? She mutters to herself gathering her things.

"Anger" the voice says. But somewhat loudly. She halts. "You seem to have a lot of it. And I don't think it targeted towards me. At least not me alone" it said with a chuckle.
"Humor me" it says

    "You mean, more than I have already??"
"Come on. What do you have to lose?"

   "I don't want to talk about it" she says. Her voice softer. Almost pain filled.

"If you never talk about it, you'll never get rid of the pain"

"I've had my fair share of pain. I'm good"

"Just let it out already" now, it seemed the voice was getting annoyed. The beam of the spotlight almost burning at this point

"I don't want to"

"Why?!"

"BECAUSE IT HURTS!!!!" she screams "IT ALWAYS HURTS!!"

There's silence for a fraction of a second.

A tear escapes the eye of the girl who suddenly doesn't seem to care about the spotlight. The intensity of her anger seems greater than it now.

"It hurts. All the time. I'm angry all the time. And when I'm not angry, I'm just sad. Empty."

The voice remains silent. She's not even sure it's there anymore.

"Day after day. I tell the same lie. Repeatedly. I put on a fake smile when needed. And say I'm fine. And no one seems to notice. Not my friends. Not my family. No one. Or maybe they notice but just don't care. No one ever seems to" she says with a dry laugh. "It's like I'm not even here. Like I'm not real"

"I have no friends. Or more accurately, I don't know who my friends are. I just know people"

"I love and I lose. And lately I've been losing a lot. And now I watch as the one person I care about the most loses more and more interest in me each day. While I pretend not to notice. Powerless to do anything to stop it. No matter the words I say. Or the actions I take in place" at this point, a steady stream of tears are flowing down her face but she doesn't care.

"And now all I can do is watch as the light they used to look at me with fades from their eyes and wait for the day those same beautiful eyes I love so much light up at someone else. Someone better. Someone less broken. And it's like a thousand daggers to the heart. Knowing there's nothing I can do about it. Nothing but to wait for the inevitable"

  As she talks, she waves her hands in a dramatic gesture. Reaveling the faint scars on her wrists that she tries to hide. "I've held pain for so long I can't even remember how to function without it. So I ignore it. Even though it's just below the surface. Along with my anger. Like a volcano just waiting to erupt."

"But it doesn't matter. Because I don't matter. Everyone acts like I don't. Even my own family. They'll never admit it but I know"

"Why don't they love me?" her voice breaks

"Why can't I get them to stay? Am I not enough?"

She stares into the theater. Expecting to hear the voice but is greated with a chilling silence instead.

The spotlight goes off. And she's left in dark of the theater once more. Lowering herself onto the floor of the stage slowly, she weeps.

And the stage curtains lower. As her sobs echo...
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Yeah, I don't know what to say. I get story ideas a the time and I just wanted to let this one out as it's a representation of how I feel right now. Vote, blah blah blah. Bye.