FicWad

Loneliness is an odd thing. When you are surrounded by many people all striving to get your attention, you wish to all the things you hold dear that you could get one moment of alone time and when you do you are reluctant to give up the silence. But when all that attention dies out, and everyone ignores you, finds out the real you behind the mask, the loneliness it causes drives you to the edge…The Edge of Insanity.

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When I was little, I had everything I could ask for. I was rich, I was spoiled, and I got everything I wanted without anyone thinking twice. I was treated kindly all the time and just like any spoiled child, I acted like a complete little brat and I was able to get away with anything. But best of all my parents were together and happy and the three of us all loved each other. That was until I hit the age of nine. Slowly I started realizing how lonely I actually was, how much parental attention I lacked. Especially when I would walk in the parks with one of the servants or when they had a day at school where the parents could come. All the time one or the other of my parents would say they would be there. Each time I was disappointed, for neither one of them had come. I started to hate my parents.

By the age of thirteen, I changed drastically. For the best in my eyes, but for the worst in everyone else's. I went from being that perfect little bratty angel that always wore bright, lacey, frilly, princess like dresses with a little bit of blush and lip gloss and curls in my brown hair, to wearing jeans with holes and rips, with dark colored shirts, preferably black. I loved rimming my eyes with black eyeliner and I constantly wore a hoodie. My personality and attitude changed as well. I went from the bubbly, hyperactive, loudmouth to a quiet, independent, loner. My shelves that once contained beautiful porcelain dolls and ballet music, now held random junk and metal music.

The family and friends I once had, all shun me now. As I turn 16, I begin to realize another thing. In a life of loneliness you can never be happy. Pretend to be happy and your life is just a fake. Once the people around you find out that you are faking happiness, you sink deeper into the hole. And that's what I fear. People finding out about the happiness I am faking. But how can I be happy when there is no one else out there that understands me?

Not a day goes by where I am not contemplating suicide. I don't fear Death. How can I when it would be a better escape then to feel this void between me and the rest of the world that is growing thicker and wider every minute of every day. Each time I am forced to lie about how much I love my "family" and "friends". Each time I lie about how good a place this world is. How come it's always us suffering such loneliness that are the only ones that can actually see the true filth in the beauty of the world? And how come it's always us that are considered crazy? Maybe we are, but maybe, just maybe, people should just stop for a moment and think "Hey maybe they are right. What can I do to stop the stupidity of society?"

But that hasn't happened yet. At least not in my knowledge of the world. And I also believe that this loneliness, this craziness, and the stupidity of the world will be everyone's downfall. And as the thought of the worlds end would scare most, as long as it means my loneliness will end, I can't help but not be afraid. I welcome Death, but how come every time the blade inches towards my wrist, I can't let it touch the skin there? How come every time I am around a sort of weapon, my heart does a frightened dance just thinking of the things it could do to my fragile body? Why is it that the lies are always easier to find then the truth? I wish that some how I could escape this world of craziness, and along with in my loneliness that is drawing me ever closer to breaking. But I feel deep down inside, that there is still some part for me to play in this world. No matter how little or big, good or evil, there is still something I have to do, and yet again, it is something that I don't even know.

The answers to all these questions in my mind evade me. And as those questions are left unanswered, others form, making my life confusing. Making a yearning build up in me for some sort of relief, some way to escape all of this. I even go as far to pray to the God that I grew up to know even if, as time went by, I started questioning my knowledge of Him as well. Is he real? If he is then how could he let a child of his suffer like this? And besides that, what if I were to die? What would happen to me? What comes after Death anyway? Is there a Heaven and Hell? Will I go to one or the other and live in complete bliss or an eternity of torture? Or is it just vast darkness waiting to devour me...?