Feeling Lonely

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
The tragic, confused thoughts of a girl who has lost her best friend.

Submitted: July 03, 2010

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Submitted: July 03, 2010



They don't know, but that's the way it is. It's been like this for a while but i can't tell. I've felt this way for almost a whole year, the sadness is tearing me apart. It is impossible for me to explain how I feel, to put it into words.

It's been like this ever since he died, my best friend in the entire world. The only person I could ever really trust. The only person that I could talk to about anything. I feel abounded, and I feel unable to face the world. I can't see clearly. It's like the howl world has changed. It's become a dark gray place, a place where I'm all by myself. Abounded and lonely.

I don't let anyone know. Know how it feels. I don't cry. At least not when anyone is around. But when I'm alone, I cry. Always.

Maybe it had been easier if I could put it into words, tell someone how I feel. But it's impossible. That doesn't seem to be how it works, and it's not getting any easier. If anything it's getting harder. With every single day that passes by it's getting worse. It's getting worse not to be able to say anything, it's getting harder to live. And to go on like everything was like it used to. I don't know how I'm supposed to do that.

Before when I was happy, when life was just an easy game, and when the world was a beautiful place, full of light, colors and opportunities. We used to be bestfriends, completely inseparable. Everything was so easy. There was no tears, only laughter. There was no rainy days when everything seemed heavy and boring. But thats everything thats left now, at this place where I am, all by myself.

I am trying. I go out, and I go to school. My body is there, but I'm not. It's like I'm on autopilot. I go where I'm supposed to go, and do what I would normally have done everyday. But I'm different. I think the people around me notice. They aren't saying anything, but I think they notice. They just doesn't know exactly how horrible it really is.

?I know I should tell someone, talk about it. People always says that talking about thinks help, but I don't really know who to talk to. I don't have anyone to talk to anymore. Sometimes I think it would be easier to just die. Then I wouldn't have to go trough this. I'd get away form my own personal hell. And maybe everyone else would just take the hint. Maybe they would realize that it's not getting any better.

I think everyone is afraid to say something. They are afraid to say something wrong, to make everything worse. They used to talk to me before. They talked about how everything was going to get better. And maybe thats what they think, but they doesn't know. They have no idea what it's like. And it really isn't getting better.

?It's come down to either this or talking. I can't take this anymore. I don't want to talk about it. This is the only way I know I can get away.

?I guess I'm running, taking the easy way out. This way I won't have to ever talk about it. I won't have to put my feelings into words.

It's like everything is in slow motion. The knife is falling to the floor, but it sounds like it's really far away. The blood is flowing from my arm, and it's falling to the floor. It makes a small pond. I almost can't feel it anymore, the world around me is fading. Everything is getting darker, and darker. The noises are getting weaker. I'm disappearing. I'm disappearing from the dark world. My last though was that now it's finally over. I don't have to be alone anymore. I can finally be with you. Everything around me gets dark.

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