[Unnamed character #5]
In a crowded place and a lot of noise, there's a child standing with no choice. Everything and everyone moves like a motion blur. I wish they'd stop like a photograph, only I, still stir.
I don't fit in anywhere, countless moving away from a different life to another, changing personalities to adapt yet nothing feels like me. I feel like a robot, programmed to copy other peoples styles, personalities, opinions and literally everything about them. Everything moves and change, but, one stays with me, a camera to capture stories and memories.
Click and another click. It looks awful. The world is awful. Fuck, everything is awful.
Should I just give up?
Staring at the bathroom mirror, I smile. "I'm fine, right?" I ask myself.
...
Am I alright? I can't feel anything at all. Something's wrong and broken with me.
I grabbed a razor and hovered it above my right wrist, the cold blade finally touches it, I let the blood flow yet still nothing. No pain, no fear, no regret, just nothing.
I raised my left hand higher, just above my neck. I was ready to slit it open, but, someone knocked at the door.
I hid the razor like I always hid myself from others. Washed my wrists and wore a jacket with sleeves long enough to cover the result of my actions.
I opened the door. "Yes, Mama?" My mother looked angry.
"This is what you do now? Be careless? You threw your camera in the trashcan. Do you know how much your Papa paid for that? Your room is a mess! Clothes on the floor, unmade bed... you're relatives are coming here later. Clean up." Those imbeciles again? Fuck them. Well, what can I even do?
"Okay...I'll clean up..." After what felt like an eternity, I slammed myself to bed. I'll sleep it all off. The thoughts, I won't let it overcome me.
Sitting at a park in silence, I watch kids my age smile, their eyes filled with laughter. Oh, how I wish I can feel that.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven—lets stop there.
I'm going to sleep it off.
I spent four hours laying on my bed, still couldn't fall into slumber.
Stepping outside, the cold air hugged me. It felt good.
I sat on the bridge, watching the cool waves wave at me, telling me to join them.
Even if I want to, I won't. I can't do that. No, not yet.
I wish I could go back to being a child. Wait, I am a child. I don't deserve all of this, right? Children are supposed to be happy and carefree. Free from all the horrors of the world.
I still should be grateful, there's still a lot of children out there that's going through so much more than me.
As I walked home, I saw a familiar figure, staring and standing still on the road I used to love. It's eyes filled with shit hatred and resentment. Is that me? Staring at myself as humiliation creeps in? I can see them clearly even if it's dark, the only emotion I know is what they show. I'm dearly sorry, I can't keep a promise I made when the rose hasn't bloomed yet. I grabbed them by the shoulder. "Surely, you'll understand, right?" Tears fell down, unknown if whom it belongs to — me or them. Fear of judgement suddenly freezed me.
I stared at them as it spoke. "Who are you?" They said. "You're not supposed to be me." It continues to add insults. "So you're miserable now? Don't tell me you're suicidal." Shit.
...
Am I?
Suddenly, everything vanished. I woke up, didn't knew what happened. It felt real like it wasn't a dream. How confusing.
Vanished by Crystal Castles was playing on my headphones — I didn't know I was wearing them. How did I get here? I'm still young yet I've already forgotten. Well, whatever.
At a library I sat on a normal chair, reading No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai. "Nice book." A child my age said (Unnamed character #3).
"Thanks." I replied.
They cleared their throat. "So we have this sort of a club about literature right here in this library. Our next meeting will be tomorrow, see you there if you want to join." They smiled awkwardly and got out of the library.
I saw them with a group of people outside, cheering them for I don't know what reason.
Should I join?
After that day, I decided to go. Maybe, this will improve my life even just a little bit.
I arrived first surprisingly, was I that eager to improve myself? The others joined. They were very welcoming in their own way. It seems like I'm not the only one that suffers in this world.
Unnamed character #3 introduced me to Unnamed character #1, Unnamed character #2, Unnamed character #4 and Solace, the old lady that runs this library.
We planned reading a literature about an aristocratic family that lost their status after the biggest war in the world, another book written by Osamu Dazai.
We wrote poems and the rule was to pass it to the next person on your right until we all read each others poems. Their poems also has deep meaning, my guess was right — I'm not the only one who has those kinds of problems. By reading their poems, I learned more about them.
Their all just like me in a way.