The ghosts of the past haunted me. I had never done anything wrong. I had never stolen, cheated or lied. I never killed anyone. Hell, I wouldn't even swat a fly. Why were so many things haunting my thoughts?
Images of my past self, past life, past friends all flashed through my brain. I was happy then. I loved being who I was. Everything was perfect. Not a thing I would have changed.
Then it seemed like everything fell apart in an instant. A domino effect.
He let me down. So many times. I doubted myself. I felt wrong and inadequate. He got inside my head and ripped my beliefs to shreds. He was always there, always within my grasp, then he disappeared. Like smoke; always there, impossibly obtainable and gone in the next second.
But this wasn't the root of my feelings. This was only the instigation. He ripped my beliefs and opinions to shreds, making me unsure of who I was. Making me doubt my place in this world.
I didn't know where to go. Who to turn to.
Then the person I could really trust appeared, randomly. I was unsure as if to open up to him, but I couldn't take no one having time to listen.
"What's wrong?" he asked me, reading the expression on my face. I knew I didn't look like the happiest person right now.
I sighed, "Nothing."
"You're lying."
"Fine. I can't stand it anymore," I admitted. I tried to be vague; I didn't want to give myself away.
"Stand what?"
"Stand what?"
"Him. Me. Everything." Vagueness blown. Why not open up to anyone for a change?
"What are you talking about?"
"What are you talking about?"
I sighed again. "You remember how everything fell to pieces in such a short time?"
"Yeah," he said. "But what does that have to do with anything?"
"I'm falling to shreds."
He contemplated that for a moment. "How so?"
I curled my knees up to my chest and placed my chin on them. "He has everything. Everything he could possibly want and he's still fucking depressed. He has more than I can ever have and he still bitches and moans to my friends. He gets inside my head and annihilates everything I thought I knew about myself. He rips my friends away one by one, playing his 'i'm-a-great-friend' card and when I need them most they're not there. It makes you want to scream but you can't turn to anyone because they're not there."
He moved so he could see my face. "I'm here."
I looked down, away from his eyes. "I know. But you're the only one." I looked back at his face and could tell I had hurt his feelings. "I didn't mean it disdainfully. I really should thank you. And I do. Thank you."
He nodded. "You're welcome. I'm always here for you. Now, as you were saying?"
"I don't know where to begin."
"Anywhere. I've got all the time in the world."
I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It's like I don't know myself anymore. It's like he can use every little thing to get to me and they all work. Which doesn't make me feel like a real person at all."
"Then what do you feel like?"
"An emotionally wrecked blob with a spinal cord."
"Then what do you feel like?"
"An emotionally wrecked blob with a spinal cord."
He laughed once. "Go on."
"I feel like there's something wrong with me. Like the world sees me and wants to go screaming into the night."
"There's nothing wrong with you. You're fine. He's the fucked up one."
I snorted. "I knew that. But apparently there is something wrong with me."
He looked puzzled. "How can you say that?"
I snorted. "I knew that. But apparently there is something wrong with me."
He looked puzzled. "How can you say that?"
"Look at me. I look mentally desloated and broken down. And who else watches some stupid movie about vampires and proms and starts crying?" I moved my hair out of my eyes, only for it to revolt and push itself back. "I mean, he's hurt my feelings numerous times and bruised my self-esteem to the point where I thought I would fall apart. Is it not enough for him to hurt me? Will he not stop until I'm over the edge?"
He blinked twice. "Wow, I had no idea you felt this way."
"I mask depression pretty well, don't you think?"
He made a line with his lips. "You do. That's scary."
I looked down then at his eyes. "They say practice makes perfect."
He blew out a puff of air. "Will no one else really listen to you?"
I looked off into the distance. We were up on a mountain that overlooked the town. The lights twinkled and made patterns that were unintentional. "Nope. I can't pull them away from their own petty problems for one second so they could hear me out. If they only knew how close to the edge I really was they'd probably lend a minute or two."
He blew out a puff of air. "Will no one else really listen to you?"
I looked off into the distance. We were up on a mountain that overlooked the town. The lights twinkled and made patterns that were unintentional. "Nope. I can't pull them away from their own petty problems for one second so they could hear me out. If they only knew how close to the edge I really was they'd probably lend a minute or two."
He raised his eyebrows. "Sorry."
"It's not your fault."
"It's not your fault."
He took in two deep breaths. "So, what now?"
I gazed into his eyes seriously. "I just want to get the fuck out of here."
"And leave me?"
I kept my gaze strong. "And leave everyone."
I kept my gaze strong. "And leave everyone."
He was surprised; I could read it on his face. "Not expecting that, were you," I asked him.
"Not at all."
I got up and moved to the banister, climbing up on the bottom rail and strattled it. Below me there was the overlook's deck on one side and on the other was a hilly dirt path that lead to a place I didn't know. Even in the dark I could see a trail that winded and disappeared into the woods. The moon was bright, it would light my path.
"No one does," I said, then unmounting the banister on the path's side.