Loneliness

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Some call it solitude, I call it loneliness.

Submitted: February 24, 2015

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Submitted: February 24, 2015

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Loneliness

“Loneliness comes with life.” – Whitney Houston

It was dark but warm, I was breathing heavy but content in a state of numb slumber, rife with extraordinary dreams. Though now, I cannot recall the dreams, they are rather fleeting, though I do know that they were wondrous. I am most content when I am unconscious, for the terrors of this world cannot harm me when I am not physically able to witness them.

Though, I must confess, it does get awfully boring sometimes. More often than not, I imagine myself in situations that would never come to fruition in the real world, just to pass the time. One cannot be sleeping all day, every day now.

I find myself not being able to move; it’s terribly uncomfortable. So too is the lack of oxygen, I’m constantly panting, as if I’ve ran a marathon. The air is hot and heavy on my lungs, how I crave for a cigarette. How I crave for everything. The darkness leaves me with no sense of time or direction and the constant heat begins to fill one with a nauseating sense of disarray.

Perhaps the greatest and most longing of all things I yearn for is someone to converse with. If I knew it was going to be this lonely, I would have been cremated. 


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