Last night I woke up in a panic. I woke up crying. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t know where I was for a minute. My room. My cold, dark room. Why did I think something had changed? I’m still here. I wish I could go back in time. I’m sure future me would too. I wish I could tell myself things would be okay in the future. I’ve been alone for... 5...6 years now... It’s painful. It’s quiet. It’s boring. I want a hug. I want to feel another person, because at this point, no one else feels real. I don’t even feel real. I feel trapped in a nightmare. I’m forced to survive alone. I just want my sister back... I want my mom... I want someone to tell me it’s ok. I don’t want to be alone any more.
I don’t like this.
It’s always dark here.
It’s May 22nd. The anniversary. The day my innocence was stolen. The day I realized humanity is evil, cruel, foul. I woke up sweating, I wanted to vomit. I felt it again. And again. And again. It’s so disgusting.
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