"Happy"

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic


A tragic story about being happy, two words that do not mix together but what is happiness exactly? what would you think happiness will be for a depressed person? That is what the hero of this
short story trying to find. This short story is a conversation the hero has with himself about what he did in his life what did he gain,what did you lose and what does he want. I present to you a
kind-of-a-light tragic happiness.

Submitted: February 18, 2018

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Submitted: February 18, 2018

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I don’t care anymore

I don’t care about anyone or anything

I don’t want to hear it

I hate… I hate it… I hate everything

…hate?

Why do I even hate?

I have no right to hate

I had no right from the start

But, what about them?

Why do they hate me?

I tried everything to suit their liking

From the way they looked at me when I was a child:

The glare I had to bear for causing trouble

That piercing gaze, that cold look

I took an oath that day and swore on my very own existence

That I will not “disappoint” them anymore in every sense of the word the child-little-burnable-me knew

 

I cared about everything I’ve done and made sure it was perfect

The road was so hard and lonely; I did not rely on anyone

I did everything to be what they wanted

All I thought about was the look they will have when they see what I accomplished, their smiling faces was my only reason for existence

I discarded every happy thing in my heart

I shut myself up; you could say I was a social outcast

But they rejected that way of living too so for the sake of appearances I took the initiative to form a social interaction with others without revealing my true self, putting up a front: a mask

I tried to be the best in everything but that was hard to do in one go so I took one thing after the other

The way my peers lived and how they smiled happily together did not bother me in the least, they had their life and I had mine

But it appears that did not last long. As my efforts wasn’t enough, they started comparing me to others in every way, anything that I lacked or anything that wasn’t perfect

Wait!! Look at me!! I can do more things than they can

They might do one thing perfectly but I can do many things

Why do you continue on ignoring my efforts?

Do you want me to be like them?

Why? Am I not enough?

Fine…

I started to care about what everyone around me did

Carefully, like a detective; inspecting, analyzing

I was starting to see them as an obstacle, an enemy

I had to…I have to even now

But sometimes, my free will surfaces bit by bit and I wanted “friends”

Although when I saw the result of that “free will” I was devastated; I started to lose sight of my real goal and my efforts decreased little by little

So the comparing became familiar from repeating it over and over again

STOP!

SHUT UP!

LEAVE ME ALONE!

PLEASE! I’M BEGGING YOU!

I HAD ENOUGH!

…is what I want to say

But it will always be a silent scream with no eco

No more, please

I want to rest

I want…

Why does my heart sting?

My vision is also blurring

A drop of water?

*sniff*

Am I crying?

Crying? Me?

Why?

I have no reason to

I have no right to cry

I chose this but not once, not even for a second have I been satisfied with anything

My accomplishments are not for me

My “friends” are not mine

Only my efforts are the one thing I did for my sake

No…

I did that for their sake, didn’t I?

Then what is it that belongs to me?

My despair?

My loneliness?

My feelings?

What feelings? I live my life for them, I didn’t think of myself

I am empty inside

*sight*

I’m tired

I honestly do not care anymore

Enough

In the end I am still a “bad person” to them

I am unnecessary

Then why do I exist?

I don’t need to live

Should I die?

No one will care so what’s the point

But I’ll be a pain if I do that

Suicides take a lot of papers

So even if I’m dead I still cause trouble

HAHA

HAHAHAHA

I am a very “bad person”!!

A very, very “bad person”!!

I won’t die

But I won’t live either

If they want something I’ll do it

I’ll be a puppet who only moves by the will of its master

A doll waiting for orders

Until the day when I break free

The day when I breathe my last breath

I am not angry

Nor am I resenting anyone

I am not despising

Nor am I regretting what happened

I am…

Satisfied with how things are

Even if I do get out of that situation, what can I possibly do?

I have been living my life for others and I know nothing beyond that

I don’t know how to live for “myself”

And I’m tired to learn from the begging

So just let it be

I’m satisfied

I’m…“happy”


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