Note: I'm not that happy with it and it feels a little weird, but I'm seeing how it goes. Which means that feedback is welcomed. : )

Forever Alive

Chapter 1

By: Inkspilled

Dear Death,

Do you know what it is? What it’s like to feel like you’ve been forgotten, is nothing compared to losing something. It’s not important. But it matters, to you and to others. To the part of you that knows it matters the part that wouldn’t be able to handle it all. It all falls at once and hits you in the face. No pain felt, only happiness lost. It shouldn’t be important, but it shouldn’t be nothing either. Where do you put it? Why doesn’t it fit anywhere? It’s just a broken piece of a puzzle. The one last bit that refuses to fit in with the others, the one thing that made a difference. Even if it didn’t matter, the smallest sound changes everything. When it starts to worsen, but you think it’s still alright, everything chooses to fall apart, crumbling under your screams. Under your silent pleas of help and questioning, you know that you can’t hide it, no one else could.

But you still try, the simple words uttered and the smallest smile shown. While inside you’ve forgotten what it is to be happy for real, losing all the pieces that kept you together. Your not falling apart either, but the irony of how everything comes together the second time. You want to scream out; you want to ask why people don’t notice it. Why they don’t care. Even why they wouldn’t have anything to say, you know. It’s pointless saying that there’s nothing that you can say when there’s everything to be said. Words unspoken, stinging into you, you want to scream, but it feels so useless, so nothing. A hope long lost is never redeemed. It’s choking you as you reach the point where it just stops, and you pray it’s over. Pleading for one more, one more thought, one more break. Trying to keep everything balanced, but every time you try, you fall. Every time you want to stay, you leave. But I know that I’ll never be spared, just another plea again lost.

Maybe this is overdoing it all, but really. I can jumble as many words as I want to use up as much of this as I want. They sent me here, to use this as my only help. More like stole me here, like I had much of a choice. Well, I think that this is stupid. I don’t think that I need any help. What did I do anyways? There’s nothing wrong with it. Is there, really? I can’t even remember what they said , but I don’t really care anymore. This is really annoying. I’m not allowed to do like, barely anything, they said that this would be what I was doing...writing in this…thing. If they’re going to boss me around, I’ll at least do it my way. I won’t be writing to a “diary” or journal, I’ll write to death. I’m pretty sure that it’ll kill me soon anyways, if not, I will. I can’t take it. What is this? I don’t even have a sense of what’s what anymore. Maybe that’s why I’m here, I’m crazy. Oh, god! This place is horrible. What kind of dump did they put us in? It’s dingy and a shithole. Disgusting, I need to know why I’m here. I hope I can leave soon, I really do.

Everything’s getting dizzy and I have no idea where everything went. It’s just a small room. I can hear other people here. These people came and they claimed that they were “going to help me through this”. What the hell does that mean? It would help if I knew something, but they refuse to tell me anything. This is really annoying! It’s like a jail, and all I can remember is…..my old house I think, I’ve been to so many places, I don’t know where I belong ,really. Well, they’re calling me Kaye; I think it was short for Kaitlyn or something. Oh, I miss my old life; I want to know why my parents didn’t visit or something, or my baby sister. I can barely remember, but mom was pregnant last year, and then I had a new baby sis, if only I remembered her name. I don’t know why, but they’re making me write and making me write properly. They won’t read this I hope, but maybe mum and dad wanted them to keep me learning while here. Oh, I hope they’ll come. I don’t know why I’m here, but I want to leave so badly. Maybe once everyone comes I can tell them that I want to leave. Please come, someone? This place is scaring me, even though I wouldn’t tell anyone. Even if I trusted-