Depression

by adrian.dakota

It’s not cool to be alone. Because then you feel like you have no life, and there’s no comforting shoulder to cry on, no voice to tell you everything’s going to be all right, no ear to whisper your deepest thoughts to.

It just remains all bottled up in your head, and that’s when it starts to get dangerous.

Oh – it’s not like I didn’t have parents. I had nice parents, actually – a really nice pair – but their own drawback was that they always insisted they were right. Yes, I’m immature. But that doesn’t mean you ignore me.

Attention because my desire. I wanted the world to acknowledge me. I wanted people to see me, to know who I was. I wanted someone who I could trust, someone that I could just talk to… but there wasn’t anyone around. Everyone seemed to work against me. Nobody cared. I used to be bullied in school… then, after protesting to the teachers, I got left alone.

Too alone. No one wanted to be with me; no one even wanted to talk to me. I didn’t have a friend I could trust, not even someone that I could tell my secrets to and know that they wouldn’t be plastered on the billboard the next day.

I searched, and searched, and searched, but there wasn’t a way out. Nobody cared. 

That’s when I realised. Nobody really cared about me. I was a nobody in society. Why do I exist? Why does the world need me?

That’s potential wasted, right there.

Then I asked myself, well, if they don’t need me, why am I here?

There was only one explanation that I could think of. And that’s when I started to kill.

I wanted people to know how my world was – those cheerful, laughing, fearless individuals who were so stupid they couldn’t even spot suffering if it was stuffed in their faces. They took everything for granted, and they were never hurt… I wanted them to know what it was like, to scream and know that there wasn’t anyone who was going to hear.

It happened on an ordinary day; nothing extraordinary. Nothing that would mark my talent. My genius. My Godly powers.

I swirled the knife in my hand, walking. Again, no one spared me a glance. I was still a nobody to them. I smiled. Everything’s going to change.

There he was. My target. It wasn’t that hard to come close to him, and I lifted the knife. I could see his face of shock, and I relished it. There. That was one person who just realised how terrible my past was.

The blood splashed out, evidence of my talent. My gifts. I laughed, watching as the body fell down, taking in the screams, the shouts of fear, the pattering of panicked footsteps. They wouldn’t be able to catch me – nobody ever would. 

But I had it. Now people were going to listen.

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