What would happen if your only sunshine is taken away from you? You'd end up like me. And you'll find yourself alone in your room, waiting for your life to cease. Waiting for your last breath to abandon your body...
Fine, fine. Stop yelling.
You know, in a month it will be Christmas. I remember when my parents used to force me to attend the church service. I didn't want to, I never did. But according to father I had to because people would poor-mouth me and, by extension, him and mother. And that wouldn't be good. And when I'd say that I will relieve them of my presence by killing myself, they'd lock me in the 'bad boy closet' until I prayed for the redemption of my sinful soul. But I would just think about ways to get away without being found. And one day, I did it. I packed my things in a suitcase and walked down the stairs. Mother, as always, was hiding in the garage smoking and drinking secretly in the car, and father, as always, was jerking off in front of the television because girls would strip and let fat people bang them.
I tiptoed my way out and managed to get a ticket for the bus with the little money I had in my pocket. And somehow I was free. And no one really cared.
I still feel sad about mother. Even though I never liked her and she didn't either. She was always blaming me for the way things were and that she felt like a servant. I used to hope that when I'd leave the house she'd leave father as well and be by herself, live for herself. But I don't think that will ever happen since she won't be able to provide for herself and she would die alone in the streets. I don't want that to happen.
Let's change the subject for a moment, shall we Nicholas? I don't feel like talking about my parents anymore. Remember Dusk? It turned out she was my landlord's daughter. And I learned why her eyes seemed so sad all the time. She had lost her mother when her brother was born. He died at birth as well. Ever since she was living alone with her father, my landlord, who was hitting her and raping her until she would pass out. And one day, which happens to be three days ago, when he was out for some business, she found the courage to call for help. I heard her saying that to an old lady from our building when the cops were forcing him into their vehicle. Who knew that sometimes good things happen, right?
When she saw me standing close and listening to her story, she turned to me and said, 'Don't worry, I'll be on landlord duty until they send a replacement from the office'. To be honest, I was surprised she thought that would make me worry, which doesn't, but it felt comforting. All I managed was 'Alright, take care'. I know it was an asinine response but I didn't know what else to say and I wish I'd say something different or, at least, something more. She smiled and I left. I'm glad now she has something less to worry about and is a little bit happier.
As for me, the plan is going well. I know, I know. You think it's pathetic and that I shouldn't do it. Maybe wait more. Maybe something will change. But I can't. I've run out of patience. Nothing you could say would change my mind. I can't bear it anymore. I've been wandering in the dark for far too long and I can't find any green lights to show me the exit.
This is the only exit. I just hope you won't hate me. I've made up my mind. I've stopped taking my pills. I've stacked them all in a pile on my desk. Tomorrow will be my last visit to Mr Dickhead. And I'll ask Mrs Props to give me some time off, a vacation if you will. And if she declines, which is most likely, I'll resign. And then I'll come back here, 'home' as I call it, and do what I have to do. Because I hate myself. Because I hate you, most of all, you who didn't even give me a reason not to. I know what you're going to say. I never asked you. Maybe I didn't want an answer. Because I am too tired. Because I've tried too much for no reason and now I just want to sleep. Because I thought too much again and sometimes thinking too much isn't a good thing. Remember that. And I wish I could look up in the sky, pick a star and say 'That's my star, I'll be there tomorrow'. But I can't because the buildings are so big I can't see the sky. And even if I did, I wouldn't be able to see the stars, because it's too bright in the night. And that fills me with sorrow.
You know, it's only 10, but I can't keep my eyes open. I wanted to chat a little bit more, but the fact that I yawned more than five times in a row is way too rude for me to stay here any longer. And you will excuse me because you've been tired before, haven't you? You've felt your shoulders so heavy that you can't even move. You understand. Good for you.
Well then, goodnight.