She wants to erase the past, get rid of old scars and memories and pain and experiences. Shed away the years like stripping off clothes at the end of a long day, forgive and forget and bury it in the sands of time, control +z, deletedeletedelete, forgive, forget...

Because her life isn’t perfect anymore, and she wants to go back, backbackbackback, backspace, FN + page back, to when life was easy, smiling and shouting and chasing around a park, when all that mattered was getting to the park in time to get a swing and finishing math homework, 1+1 and 2+2 on time, and eating apples and drinking milk, or to later when all that mattered was meeting friends and shopping, and laughing and playing and smiling and cracking jokes and hunting for the phone when it fell beneath her bed was the largest problem and getting that dumb Geo brochure done in time and projects and phone calls and gatherings and fun.

And all she needs, no, wants, because there’s no such thing as needs, only wants, she tells herself, is some way to fix her fucked-up-to-no-end life, some magic cure, spellcheck, grammarcheck, F7, because her life isn’t good anymore, deletedeletedelete, rewrite, rewind, create, delete, create again until everything’s good and happy and nice and she can just rest and drink tea and watch downloaded anime episodes on her computer and sleep, sleep without having to guard from enemies or without a gun under her pillow, and stay up late reading and sleep in without having to wait by the phone just in case incaseincaseincase someone called her with a job.

But every time she thinks-really thinks, past the whole ‘There’s no such thing as sadness, just loneliness and despair, no such thing as pain, just discomfort and anxiety, etc.’, she realizes that she can’t, no matter what she needs-wants, she reminds herself, she can’t erase the past, erase the mistakes she made, rubbing out unwanted marks and sections of life and years like she used to erase the marks with the crayon-shaped erasers she used, delete the scars and pain like she’d edit the English essay due on Thursday...or was it Tuesday? She couldn’t remember, couldn’t remember where she went wrong exactly, where she went off the path into the woods.

Because no matter how much she wants it to be there, there’s no control Z shortcut for life.

The bottle of aspirin on the dresser was looking more enticing everyday.

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D: You actually think I knew what I was thinking when I wrote this? A little piece I threw out, more to test out this writing style than anything else. There'll be another one with a slightly similar style called Yuu sometime soon. Still writing it though. xD Yes, the title is supposed to be spelled that way. It's the shortcut for undo on microsoft word and a lot of other things.

-Rengeki