The Rewrite


I feel pain. I feel deep pain. Everyone does, I know, but this pain has cut so far into my heart, I don't know how much more I could possibly take. It seems the world is always intent on pushing that limit. I refuse to give in. Or have I, already? I don't really know.

It isn't a physical pain, because those heal. Injuries heal. Even the injuries that don't completely heal feel better than this. I could have every bone in my body broken. I'd take that, and be glad. Nothing, at least to me, hurt more than this. Feeling burdened by this nightmare.

Because I know that it's my fault that the nightmare had happened.

Oh sure, the damage would still have been done to all of our material possessions. But that didn't matter to me. I could have just simply lost everything. I'd take that, and be glad.

Because I know that I would have rather lost just the material things. I know that I'd lost something much more important. Much closer to my heart.

But I didn't have to lose that, did I? No, I didn't have to. I could've lost everything but that. I could've prevented this from happening. But it's happened. It's done. And nothing will ever change that, will it?

The burdening nightmare has haunted me ever since that day. I can't go a day without having to remember it. But I refuse to remember it. I don't want to remember the trauma. I don't want to remember the pain, the screams. I try to remember it as little as possible, and shove it to the back corner of my mind.

Does this make me afraid of what happened? I don't know, exactly. What's done is done, and that's that. The universe doesn't stop for anyone. I've been taught that, I know that, and I will always remember that. So maybe I've chosen to push the nightmare to the far corners of my mind simply because I know it's not worth my time to cry. I have a life to live, and I think they would agree with me, too. Who are they, exactly? I can't tell you.

The memories would hurt too much.

I've decided to never let anyone in. I've locked myself in a concrete box. No one comes in. And I open up to no one. The only exception is that the top is missing. It's a box with no top. The walls are high. It's lonely and dark, but I'm used to it by now.

I refuse to lose my sanity over this. I have to be strong. I have to remember that.

I hate this. Losing them, being pitied. Then again, nobody pities me anymore. Because no one knows about the nightmare. No one I know is around me anymore. I'm alone among strangers, and I'm okay with that.

Am I just running away from the problem? Maybe. I don't think about it much. I've always been just a tad impulsive. Does that make me a bad person? I don't know. I don't want to be a bad person. But how can I be a good person, in this state?
No one would care, anyways.

I've left behind everything I know. Everyone I know. My best friend, is she still okay? Does she care for me anymore? How should I know? I left so long ago.

Yes, I know for sure now. I am a bad person.

Am I okay with this? I don't know. I don't want to be a bad person. But maybe it's just the way I've always been meant to be.

But I don't want this to have been the way it was always meant to be.

If this was how it was always going to be, then have I always been a bad person? Was I made this way? Surely, I wasn't. But how can I be so sure?

I used to believe. I used to believe more in the supernatural. You know. For God so loved the world, and all of that. But now I've begun to have doubts. I'm sorry, God. I'm just so confused. No, confused isn't the right word. Broken? I don't know.

I don't want to be broken. I want everything to be as it should have been. Why, oh why, did my life fall apart at the seams? I just want to know.

Maybe then I can understand.

But I'm not going to do anything rash, God. I would never think of taking my life, or under-aged alcoholism, or anything like that. I'm not stupid. I won't let myself drown in my sorrows. I will stand above that.

I am Robyn. My last name is of no importance.

I know that I am broken. I know that, even while I am broken, I can stand strong.

Why have I shut others out? Why have I stopped reaching out? Why have I put up a wall between myself and others?

Because, deep down, I'm waiting for someone to climb over that wall and save me from myself.

A/N: This is Flight: the Rewrite. Please refer to my story announcements on my profile to understand why I am rewriting this. For a basic reason as to why, I lost interest in the first version of Flight. I began that story so long ago, with the plot based off a dream. At the time, my writings were much more juvenile. Thus, I have taken the original plot, built it stronger, added a darker theme and twist to it, and rewritten it in a much better form, if I do say so myself. Thus Flight: the Rewrite was born.

The prologue has never been seen before, as I typed it up at home without any other eyes seeing it. So feel special for being able to see it. Haha =]

I hope to type up the chapters that I already have done soon, so please be patient ^.^"

You don't have to review, though I would enjoy input and just general encouragement. Please and thank you to those who do. =]

Much Love,