The emptiness overwhelmed me in the dark bedroom. Nothing was like it should be in the world…outside, no moon hung overhead with its silver glow; inside, everything was unclean and dirty, things layering the floor of the room. I didn’t care for anything around me, for nobody cared for me. I could express my love and caring nature to my friends, family – yet they just let it fly over their heads. There was only one that seemed to care, but he was a person that was just a distant human being that I couldn’t get close to. I wanted to, but we were thousands of miles apart.
I had known him for a year, and every time I conversed with him, I felt all the depressing things in the world were replaced with color and life, a feeling I only felt when I talked to him. Outside of that almost fantasy-like reality, everything was bleak and grey, without any happiness. I would have felt better invisible to the world, if it were not for him. Without his existence, I would have the immediate ability to leave the world, slip away from reality and fall to a silent, unseen lifestyle.
But his being so far away made everything worse, making me grieve for things around me, not to mention myself. Tears of rage and sadness consumed me every night as I fall to sleep, and all that was left in slumber was fantasy dreams and things that could never happen in that cold, bitter reality that I lived in.
I sat in the desolate bedroom, every inanimate object seeming more like ghosts or simply colorless and grey objects. To me, the world seemed like a black and white film, but it had no end. I was huddled at the corner of the room, hugging my knees as I cried. As hard as I cried, I felt no pain, as if things had just become numb. I was in old clothes, a pair of simple grey leggings and a grey sweater-like shirt. Just as bleak as the atmosphere I was seeing now.
I felt that sense of emptiness that couldn’t be cured until something could fill the void, but nothing could. I knew in my heart nothing could – I was so lonely, desperate for somebody to be there for me, a friend that I could be with. And he…he could be here now. If only he knew what I felt like, to throw away that transparent masquerade of being happy when I talked to him. If he were close by, here now…I would simply embrace him, cry on his shoulder until he could make all the pain and the numbness and the loneliness just leave the world.
If only it could be done so simply.
But I sat there, knowing nothing could be done so easily as that. And I let the world envelope me into that same bleak grey packaging, and I cried, letting the tears trickle down my cheeks. Nobody could make this depression slip away with such ease, not just as easily as a piece of paper slipping between two fingers – only him.
I stood up, unstable and helpless in my almost crippled and sorrowful state. I let my body become limp and fall onto the bed, slipping the soft blanket over me. And I cradled and cried myself to sleep, letting the sickeningly happy fantasies come to life inside my head.
Within the windmills of my mind
I let the dreams come to play
And finally when the fantasies end
The depression of the world comes again
I haven't been writing since my SSC8 contest entry, and for some reason I wanted something a little different. Although this is probably ultra depressing, I decided to try something new, like an exercise to capture the mood and attitude of characters. Still, I wrote it only a few minutes ago - the story was meant to be short and sweet, before somebody mentions length. Comments and critique are welcome.