See, I am alive!
I’m just in the middle of doing four different types of Social Studies homework (yes, four). But I am back. And my homework has not killed me (yet!!!!).
Anywho, Gracie and Gracie are hosting a writing contest and yes, you go me right, just to add a whole heap more onto my workload I entered. After five goes at 750 words each I finally finished on a final copy of my story I’m proud of. Well, please with at least. I’m not oo sure about it, to be honest. But Gracie said it was good so that’s high praise indeed! But I’ll leave the rest up to you guys. gone is as follows.
We’re all like blades of grass
We come to prime and in time we just wither away
‘It’s your choice,’ she shrugged, ‘You can continue with this worthless life, or you can become someone who matters.’ Her face was grim but the words she spoke – however harsh – were sincere and clearly meant for the best. They were meant as ‘constructive criticism’. I hated those words. For my whole life everyone had given me ‘constructive criticism’. AKA, telling me I was completely and utterly wrong. With EVERYTHING I did. And now, now it was getting to be too much. Far, far too much. But what she said was true. I could continue as I was now, miserable and lonely, or I could change my life, somehow find a way to make it better. Somehow. It was always somehow…
Somehow…that was how I’d managed to reach where I was now. Sitting across from her, staring at the lake while she read her book. The lake. Blue and shimmering, the opposite of my mood. My life, really. With it’s pink clouds and intricate reflection details, it really was beautiful. Not like me, not like my life. Oh, no. Not at all. But oh well. Maybe, life didn’t matter like they say it does. No, I don’t think it does. But then again, I don’t matter either so, oh well. That was just my life. My views.
My views…my views of where I was now? Really, I realised, really, I wasn’t there, wasn’t talking to her, sitting by the lake. Not really. That was all in my head. But I didn’t know where I really was. Where my correct body was. On a bridge overlooking a lake, maybe, surrounded by trees in gorgeous autumnal colours. A little house on the side of the hill. Nestled into the crook of a clearing. Maybe. Where did these thoughts come from? Where was I really? Look, the chance of being there was slim. Almost non-existent. But maybe, who knows, I was really there. In the clearing by myself. Maybe that would change me. Help me to get better. To fix the shatterings in my head. But only if I was really there. Which I wasn’t. Because I didn’t know where I was. Because life was so horrible that there was nowhere for me to be, to really and truly be. But that was what life had always been. Well, all I’d ever known. A life of fostering, of new places, of running away, of ‘constructive criticism’. Life had always been full of the things I’d hated. So why would this other new place make any difference? It wouldn’t. So why would I bother? I wouldn’t. It made no sense.
Sense… Life made none of it! Or was it just me? It was always ‘just me’, every time. For no particular reason. So what was the point of having me? For a fun game, a toy? No? What was it then? It wasn’t like I made money, was smart, pretty, all the rest. Literally, I was ‘just me’. That’s what they always said after they took me in. That I was just me. Nothing special. Oh well. Again. Life is another of those ‘oh well’ things. It comes and goes and is forgotten. Do you remember those who were there before you? Who placed their feet where yours are now? No, you don’t. And in years to come, your steps will be forgotten just as equally. All that will be left of you is dust and those steps you took, no matter how large, will be gone. And you won’t be able to get them back. That’s just as it is.
What is really the point in going on? Is there any? There really is none. Why continue? Just for fun? But there is no fun. So I’ll go. Not just in thoughts, in life. Because I’ve not a clue where I am, what I am, who I am, what I want. I won’t continue. I’ll be where I am not, on the bridge over that lake, where the trees bloom gold and the cottage sits nestled into the clearing. Because there I’m where life goes to die. Just as the leaves on the trees are. Just like I will.
And so I jump.
All I had were thoughts about the past
And a list of my favorite songs to keep me company
But I still struggle and lose myself every day
As per usual, the main character died. This time though, she killed herself, not just somehow got killed. Very sad, I know. But it seems like a good-ish piece of work! However, I’d really love your feedback on it because I know that several of you are writers/readers and so have the sort of knowledge that I may lack! (A.N. See, I’m wide awake today!)
Oh, you guys are awesome. The confidence thing I posted about in my last post has had so much support. Thank you so much, all of you. I’ll be posting that soon, so keep your eyes open!
so, what’d you think? what can i change? what’d i do wrong? was it a little deep for a 13-year-old? although, you oughta see my recent artworks, they’re rather, er, heavy. or deep! I might share them with you. if i ever remember!
Love you all!