Dear Agony (Arctic)

I've never seen the word life scripted into my bones and today makes it no different. Today I felt weak. Lifeless as if the oxygen had just been sucked out of my body. Today I was blue. Easily compared to any other day where I put on my hat to cover my sleep-drained eyes and my blue sweatshirt to cover my pale arms. I groan when mother tells me to start leaving to head to school. She said that I better not be late again and that I better not skip class. But why should I stay? They killed my only happiness. My only source of any kind of joy in the world. I used to see the world in colors - in pinks and blues and greens and yellows. I used to see the world in animation, in joy.

But now, all I see is black and white. Maybe that's just me, but it's hard to look at anyone without thinking about how the entire world could be against you and there'd be no idea of it in your mind. It's the number one fear that entertains my mind and keeps it alive. It's that there is nobody, will be nobody that cares that much about me. So I guess that I shouldn't care that much. But I do? I do care somehow but I can't figure it out. My rusted eyes and my blurred lies are too locked together to figure out what's right and what's wrong. That could be a good thing. They could censor out all of the world's attacks against me and I could rule the world.

My thoughts awaken.




I put on my gloves and tie my boots, tying myself to this ground and telling myself that I won't lift off today. I won't fly away just yet. A promise to myself had been made every time I lace my boots because it means that I will walk this earth. That this would not be my last day. Walking on this earth, conquering it with whatever small insecurities that are held in my hands. And I'm trapped.

But, following the descent of whatever urges I have to live, I walked out of the door with chattering teeth and shivering arms. I was scared and shaking. Nobody wants to face the outdoors or society in the case of losing a friend to them. It's a pretty obvious thought in my opinion. It's like the Games in a way. If someone killed your ally you'll obviously be a bit scared to confront them yourself right? You could be a little bit envious (I still am), and you would have no urge to do anything with the people that did it.

That's how I feel. They killed my friend so why should I bother try and associate with them? Tired eyes close in frustration, lingering in the sway of slumber trying to pull me in, but I pull out of it. Resisting the bait of sleep for whatever trade that it offered to me for an escape into some different world of sorts. But what's the point of entering a world that filters your mind that everything is better? There is no point. There isn't any when life fails to example happiness. My mind awakens, yet again. This time by the breeze that wraps itself around my arms and coils around my fingers. It's getting cold.

So I walked through this district, making my way to school but even God knows that I won't be going there. I'll find some distraction to get me away from it because I don't want to go at all. I never really thought that when I'd see someone crumbling to the ground I'd feel like it's required to help, but, I guess today was different. Happens to be that my distraction for today. So, I take footsteps towards him. I don't talk to him, I don't speak to him.

I slide down the wall and sit with him.

He forces his sobs to go away, and for a quick moment, I was surprised. Why would he bother crying when he was already doing it in such a public place? There was still a couple sniffles here and there, but he had stopped doing it for the most part. Was he scared that I'd hurt him for crying? That sounds quite stupid-

actually, no it doesn't. People take advantage of when you're weak. They toy with your weak, broken state of mind and mold it like clay so they can get the best of what they want. After losing Dakota, I know that from a very personal point of view. Maybe that was it. I found the idea of someone else having the same pain as Dakota completely, and utterly, impossible.

"If you're going to hurt or mug me, please make it go by quickly." He was scared of me? I had to admit - I was taken aback by the idea. I didn't intimidate anyone, right? I'm not big or strong - not loud or mean. So what was it that scared him; the idea of being hurt? That's silly, everyone gets hurt in this day. Was he afraid of vulnerability? Being alone with someone, or figuring out that not quite everything was as you were told?

Being told you were safe, but they were really plotting your downfall the entire time? In my world, that's the biggest normality there is. Maybe that's why I find it odd for him to be scared like this. "I'm not going to hurt you." I mumble, the smallest smile in my voice. It's silly how people automatically could think that you're out to get them when they could very well go against you in seconds.

They were silent for what seemed like years, decades.

Look over at the other, look back at their feet, breathe.
Look at the other, look back at my feet, breathe.

Centuries of the routine.

Despite how much I hated the idea of breathing, it was a rather simple necessity of life.

"Why are you here?" He asks, disbelief that there would any other reason than to bring him down and hurt him. But I sigh, looking over at him and keeping my sight towards him.

"Same reason as you," I sound tired. Weak. Ready to just leave the current world and fly into a whole new one because this one sucks ass. I grip my hands until they're white, wait until they're back to normal color, and do it again.

"Th--thank you."

For what? Being human? That's kinda disappointing example of how people underestimate the actions of others. I mean it could just because I'm not the most handsome looking (i mean, look at me; my lips are probably bigger than my - yep you get the gist of it). But anyways, it's kind of saddening to see that he thought I was going to attack him. I mean I would too - everyone in this world hates me. Why wouldn't they want to hit me? One less person to worry about with the food supply. One less person to have to live in this hellhole. "There's no reason to thank me." I look at him with a smile. It's weird to think that I'm being supportive when I'm ready to fall. "I'm as broken as you are."

There's no reason to attack the people that walk the same way as you. That is - if you were to see them that way. Perception is everything in this wicked game of life and if you perceive something the wrong way; well, it's easy to guess that you aren't succeeding at the game. The man nearby me seems quiet - in his own trance to where he can't speak and can't move and everything seems to have just frozen. Like your body has shut down all communication and your brain has this roadblock in the way, making it impossible to tell your body to do anything in the first place.

So I took my time waiting for him. I didn't want to stress him even more than he already is. "It'll be okay. Maybe everything'll be better in the end. Right?" There was a small laugh and the bob of my head, not really believing whatever lie that was just sent. "Everything ends eventually."

If everything ends, why is my pain still here?

Why can't Dakota's beating heart leave my brain? It's been there on repeat day in and day out - as I breath in I feel like it's two times as much. Like I'm breathing for another person. Living life (at what seems to be its worst ride) and trying to make the best out of it for not one but two people.

It's hard to not get tired after the weight of a ghost on your back, and especially when they've put their faith in you to not fall like they did.

"If that's what you want to put it as, then sure."