I woke up.
I’m still tired, I don’t know what to do anymore. Honestly there isn’t anything to do, why bother.
I stood up from my bed.
What have I been doing all my life? Why am I still here? I had all of those in my mind as I forced myself to go to the bathroom. I’m too weak for this. I felt so heavy as I trudged my way to the bathroom.
I took off my clothes.
As I turned on the shower, I felt the cold water hit me. Before, I would always stay at the side to avoid getting hit by the cold water as I waited for the hot water to come, but now, I don’t even bother.
“Haaah..” I sighed, before bursting into tears again. Why? I asked myself, just why?
Just a few months ago everything was a bit better, but now, I don’t think anything can be better again. I wish I could be with them too, I could, but even that I can’t do, because I’m weak and it’s also because of my fucking weakness that their not here anymore. I’ve been chased by this guilt for so long, and I know saying that I would’ve taken their places is such an understatement to me, because I don’t even think I could.
I got out of the shower.
I stood there, in front of the mirror, looking at the crazy person on the other side. I wonder what his story was. I wonder what he had to go through, why he looked like that. So, I asked him myself.
“What’s wrong?” I asked him.
He only stared back at me, not saying anything; smiling before he disappeared. I’m just happy to have seen a glimpse of him one last time as I smiled back.
I was born into this world… I wasn’t supposed to. At Least that’s what I kept hearing from my mother since I started having memories, and I myself asked why I was here. I was always so interested in everything living, but death and non existence intrigued me more.
I guess I was too intrigued that it itself gave me the answer.
It was dinner time.
Mother called for me just to order me to go and call father. I obliged. I went to our garage, it was dark, like it usually was. I walked in and called out for my father, he didn’t answer, I guess he’s listening to his music again while working.
I felt like I stepped on a wet puddle under my feet. I found that weird. It was dark but the moon gave a bit of light for me to see at least the silhouette of my father. I looked up.
I was eight.
I don’t remember my father. It always felt like my mother and me and the little kid she always brought to our house . She took such good care of me, and the little kid. She gave me my own room, so did the little kid. She cooked my favorite food when I needed it, and let me out of my room when I wanted to.
I haven’t really heard of the little kid ever since I got my room downstairs and it was always quiet at home. I guess the little kid didn’t get to experience what I got. Too bad for him though.
I didn’t get my lunch today, dinner too. I guess mother is very busy today, she usually only forgets once.
The next day, I wanted to go outside, but I had to ask my mother first.
I opened the door.
Where was mother? The door opened so easily, something might be wrong.
I stayed inside just in case.
I was eleven.
Have I always had a mother? I don’t remember. I remember having a childhood. But now I’m too old for one.
I finally understood life. All my life I’ve never had parents so I grew up with other people, people I cherish very much.
I ran out as fast.
Why? How? Where were they all? It’s so hot, how are they not feeling this heat, I’m technically burning right now.
I tried running back, but someone stopped me, I yelled, screamed to let me be, I was fine, I’m okay, they shouldn’t worry about me.
Weird noises became loud.
There was so much color , so much people, more than I’ve ever seen before.
I was eighteen.
I don’t really have anything or anyone, I don’t know where they are or if I’ve actually ever had any.
I woke up again.
Regretting waking up. Why couldn’t I just stay. I don’t want to be reminded every damn day about people I don’t remember.
Please just trade my life for theirs.
I stood up.
I looked again at the person in the mirror. He always told me the same story. I’ve had enough of it, I don’t care about him if he doesn’t care about mine. It’s always me who asks him “what’s wrong”, he always looks so tired. He was my comfort, the only one there.
“Haah…” I sighed; smiling. I got out of the bathroom, to get a few things, before coming back.
He was still there. We made eye contact for a few minutes, before letting go.
The boy behind the mirror, oh wait it was a window, our mistake.
I guess both of us have had enough huh?
Living what we lived again and again.
We couldn’t take their places,
So why not join them.
Would it be better that way?