Why am I no one’s favorite? Everyone has someone who cares for them. But why don’t I? No one seems to want to come talk to me. No one seems notice when something is wrong. No one seems to notice when I’m hurt. Is it something I did? Is it me?

I’m drowning and no one wants to save me. Everyone is doing their own stuff, and I’m taking water in. Soon I won’t be able to take anymore water, and I’ll sink. Sink all the way to the bottom where no one can save me.

Will I scum to the water or will I fight my way to the surface?

The sun shines brightly overhead today, without a cloud to be seen. Why is the sun out? Why isn’t it cloudy or rainy? Why doesn’t the weather match the situation? There’s no place for the sun at a funeral.

Especially at the funeral for the love of my life. For the mother of my daughter.

I’m standing at the back of the congregation holding my daughter, looking at the dark coffin sitting on a raised platform. The pastor is standing in front leading the service. I can hear his words, but I don’t understand them. To me, the words are just noise.

I look down at my daughter in my arms. She looks so small. Melody will be one in a month. Never again will she be held by her mother, never again will she be doted on by her mother. She will never know her mother’s love.

Melody tangles her dainty fingers in the chain around my neck. I pull the chain out from under my shirt that holds my wife’s wedding ring. Melody quickly grabs the silver band. Before she has the chance to put the ring in her mouth, I place my hand around her little hands.

“This is your mother’s wedding ring. You’ll get it when you are older, when you won’t try to eat it immediately,” I say to Melody. “I hope that you love it. It’s the closest thing I can give to you that was your mother’s.” Melody just stares at me with her wide, blue eyes. She smiles up at me with her four front teeth showing. I wish I could be as carefree as Melody. She then starts to mess with the silver band on my finger that I can’t bring myself to take off.

I kiss the top of Melody’s head. She lets out a bout of giggles that brings a small smile to my face. Simultaneously, my heart breaks into a million pieces that are swept away in the gentle breeze. I take a deep breath and slowly let it out.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and look up to see my mom standing in front of me. People aren’t sitting in their chairs anymore. They are lining up at the coffin to pay their respects.

I hand Melody to my mom. It is time to say goodbye. I plant another kiss on Melody’s head as I try to hold back my tears. But, as Melody places her hands around my face, a tear begins to slides down my cheek. I take a deep breath and step back. Melody is reaching out for me. I want to hold her in my arms, but I need to say goodbye on my own.

There isn’t anyone around the coffin anymore. I make the slow descent down the aisle. The walk feels like an eternity. My heart drops in my chest, and my body starts to go cold. I feel numb. I’m not ready to say goodbye. But I have to do this.

As I stand next to the coffin, I place my left hand on top. My wedding ring shines as it reflects the sunlight. The dark mahogany feels smooth under my hand. I take a long, shuddering breath.

Our life together had barely begun. We quickly fell in love and got married after our first year of college. You were soon pregnant with our daughter. You excelled in school while becoming a mother at the same time. Against all odds, you graduated. You were already talking about wanting more kids. I told you that we had time. But what did I know? You were just twenty-two, then suddenly, you were gone. You were taken away from us. Why did this have to happen to us? To you?

You had plans to law school in the fall. You always talked about how you wanted to change the world. Now you won’t have that chance.

Why wasn’t I in that car instead of you? I should have insisted that I go to the store to pick up Melody’s medicine. Instead, I’m here, and you’re not.

You were going to do great things. Change the world. Defend the innocent and those who couldn’t speak for themselves. You were going to change laws to bring equality to everyone. You were destined to be great and mighty. You were destined to be a great mother.

But now, you won’t be. You were taken away from us.

I don’t know how I’m going to move on without you. I don’t know how to be a great parent to Melody. I don’t know how to do it without you. Being a mother was so effortless for you. I don’t know how to be a father. I struggle everyday to be a good father. Melody deserves better. She deserves you, her mother. I should have been in that car instead of you.

But I can’t go back in time and change it. You’re gone.

I have to move on without you now; you were taken from us to soon. Our daughter needs me to be strong for her. I’ll have to learn to be strong. Everything I do now, and everything I learn along the way, it will all be for Melody.

I take the chain from around my neck. I remove the silver band from my ring finger and slip it onto the chain. There is a faint clink as our wedding rings come together. I slip the chain back around my neck. As the rings thump against my chest, I feel a little bit of the tension rise out of my chest. As soon as the first tear drops from my eye, the floodgates open.

I love you, Anna Grace Winchester.

Why can’t I turn off my thoughts? All I want to do is sleep. But as soon as I close my eyes, your hurtful words creep into my head and hurt me all over again.

I don’t want to hurt, but my thoughts have a mind of their own. My mind likes to torture me with everything people say and all my past actions.

Was I overreacting? Was I a bad friend? Am I a bad friend? Why can’t I be happy? Why won’t my mind let me be happy?

All I want to do is move past the hurt. From deep within my soul, I want to forgive you and move on. But my mind won’t let me. My mind likes to over process every little detail till I’m drove to insanity.

I just want to turn my brain off and go to sleep. I just want to be happy

Why does loneliness hurt so much?

Your heart feels like it is breaking. You see people together doing normal things like talking and you heart feels like it breaks into more pieces as if it had more pieces to break.

It’s a build up. Loneliness creeps into your soul overtime. One day you are happy to be left alone. The next you feel sad when your friends talk about plans they have that don’t include you. They didn’t even think to invite you or you become an afterthought. It’ll be nice not to be an afterthought.

You wish people would just invite you. You can’t invite yourself because that’s rude. When someone does invite you, you feel special. Maybe someone will see you. You aren’t invisible after all.

Sometimes you feel invisible because people talk around you and over you and don’t seem they are doing it. You can’t blame them. You feel invisible yourself. Sometimes you feel like you will fade away.

The worse part about loneliness is that people don’t realize you feel this ways. As soon as you say something, everyone around you either feels bad or make a big deal about it. You don’t want to be the center of attention. You just want one person to look at you. To tell you they see you.

And when someone does, it last as long as you are with them. As soon as you aren’t together, the dark feelings of loneliness creeps back into your soul. Loneliness barrows into your heart and soul. It will live in your soul and come up for air at the most inconvenient times. You just want to kill loneliness. But you can’t.

Even when you are in a group, you feel like you are by yourself. You don’t know why. These people are your friends. But sometimes the more people in a group, the lonelier you feel. The loneliness will hide when you are one on one with someone. It’s nice to have one person’s attention for once.

Social media makes the sinking of your heart worse. You see everyone smiling and laughing and having friends and going outside. And you are just stuck by yourself in your room.

You are never actually alone though. Loneliness is always with you.

“It’s not your fault that this is happening. So stop blaming yourself.” I tell my best friend, Charlie. I try to step around her to go into the building. She side steps to block my path. Her arms are crossed over her chest, and her stare is burning a hole in my soul. Charlie usually isn’t stubborn, but today it seems she is taking a page from my book.

“Well, you guys are making me feel bad.” Charlie says.

“You weren’t even there. How could it be your fault?” I question.

“You guys are fighting over me. I told you those pictures don’t bother me.” Charlie says. I cross my arms over my chest. I have class soon, but it seems I’m gonna be late because Charlie wants to hash this all out.

“I have class soon. I need to go in.” I try to get around Charlie again. She doesn’t let me.

“Class isn’t as important as keeping our friend group together.” Charlie says.

Yesterday at lunch, Charlie decided to sit with her ex-boyfriend. They are trying to be friends and may get back together. Charlie hasn’t decided if she wants to give Winston a second chance. He graduates in a month, and Charlie still has two years of college left. But Charlie still has feelings for him.

Well, I was sitting with our friends Madison, Camila, and Kennedy. Madison kept going on about how cute Winston and Charlie were together. I told her to knock it off since they were just friends. In my personal opinion, Charlie shouldn’t try to date Winston again. They can still be friends, but dating will just lead to heartbreak. But it isn’t my choice. It’s Charlie’s choice.

Madison then decided that she wanted to take pictures of the two of them. She pulls out her phone and starts to take pictures. My immediate response was to put my hand over the camera. We argued. Madison believes that Charlie will be fine with the pictures. I believe it is an invasion of privacy and will do more harm to have a visual representation of what Charlie could have. Madison claims that she isn’t gonna post the pictures. So what? Are the pictures just gonna sit on her phone? That’s not creepy at all.

Nothing bothers Madison. Everything just rolls right off of her. She also doesn’t think about what other people feel. Just what she wants to do. There are consequences to actions, and Madison doesn’t think that far ahead or chooses to ignore them.

I have class in 40 minutes, so I leave. I’d rather sit in an empty classroom than sit across and deal with Madison. As I had time to cool off, a thought accord to me. Did I overreact? Was I in the wrong?

I text and ask Camila who was there if I was overreacting? She responded a few hours later. To sum up the long text message, Camila said that I was overreacting a bit. Charlie tells Camila and Madison everything and they know about the Winston situation better than I do. Charlie wouldn’t mind the pictures. After being called a bad friend and not knowing Charlie as well, I said I would drop it.

Problem is, I’m not good at dropping topics that bother me. I couldn’t get rid of this feeling that something bad was gonna happen. I had to do something to protect Charlie. I don’t want to see her get hurt. Kennedy suggested I tell Charlie my side of things and that Charlie deserved to know about the photos.

Charlie said the photos didn’t bother her but was thankful I was looking out for her.

Even with Charlie saying she was fine about the pictures, I could shake off how salty I felt towards Madison and Camila. That’s how we got here with Charlie trying to fix this.

“I said I would drop it. So let’s drop it and let me go to class.” I say. Charlie doesn’t move. I cross my arms over my chest. Charlie follows suit.

“But you are still giving Madison and Camila the cold shoulder. So obviously you aren’t fine or dropping it. This issue is still bothering you.”

“Look,” I hold Charlie’s gaze. “I’m trying. All I need to do is build a bridge and get over it. I’m just not good at building bridges. But I’m working on it.” I say sternly. In a softer voice I ask, “can you let me go to class now?” I side step around Charlie. This time she doesn’t stop me.

I think a person can write whatever race or nationality they want to, but have to understand that there is going to be a difference in culture. For example, I’m white and if I was going to write about a Mexican-American, I’m going to have to understand that they are probably bilingual and Mexican families care a lot about family. As a writer, I’m going to have to understand that even if the character grew up in America, their family probably still holds onto Mexican ideologies. Another example that could cause problems are cultures that have other ideologies than what the writer has. For example, Germany’s views are that they care more about what is better for society than the individual. Whereas in America, we care a lot about how the individual feels over what is good for society as a whole.

When writing about a different race or nationality, you have to take in account that their culture is probably different than yours.

During the midst of battle, everything is loud. The shouting of commands. The booming of cannon and gun fire. The whimpers of pain from dying comrades.

But now everything is still. No one dares to talk. Everyone is in their own head and in their own horrors. The enemy is gone, and everyone can relax now.

But no one relaxes. Everyone is still on edge. Maybe the enemy is waiting for us to let our guard down. Maybe the enemy is waiting for the perfect moment.

So we sit and wait. We wait for an attack that may not come. We wait for an opportunity avenge our fallen brothers. No one talks in fear of the possibility of our enemy being just around the corner.

The only sound around is the breaths of the living and nature continuing on as if this is a normal day. Nature doesn’t care about death. Nature only cares about being an inconvenience to humankind.

Night falls and still no sign of the enemy returning. Some men give up and go to sleep. Not me. I know they are still out there. I won’t rest until we win and the enemy is dead.

The enemy doesn’t come for a fortnight. The sun has peaked over the ocean when the first cannon booms. I scramble for my gun and run outside. My brothers in arms are around me. The sounds of cannons and gun fire break the silence that has surrounded the camp.

I aim my gun at the chest of the enemy and fire. My ears ring, and my arms throb. The enemy goes down. I stand up and immediately fall back down. Something has ripped through my chest. Blood slowly spreads across my uniform shirt. The more the blood spreads, the less I can see.

The commander’s shouts turn to whispers. The booming of cannons and gun fire seizes. The whimpers of pain diminishes. The world around me stops.

I see only darkness.

I hear nothing.

I hate my life. I hate my childhood. I hate the people who raised me. I hate the situation I am in now. If it wasn't for the people who took me from my original family. Then maybe I would be happy. But that is not my life as much as I wish it was.

Now I stand here dealing with the consequences of my actions because of the people who shaped me into the monster that I am. I don't want to kill, but I don't have a choice. They made sure of it. Because the one time I made the choice not to kill someone, they killed you.

You are dead because of me.

You are dead because I couldn't kill the person they wanted me to kill.

You are dead because I wanted something different for my life.

You paid the price for my action, and I wish you didn't. I wish I could trade my life for your's. I wish I was the dead one because I hate myself for what happened to you. I've thought about ending my life to end the suffering. But I can't.

I can't because of the last gift you gave me. She looks just like you. I know I cannot make her an orphan. She already lost one parent; I can't bring myself to make her lose another. What kind of life would she have without me here to protect her. Would she have a childhood like mine.

This is the last time I will ever be able to visit you. I am taking our daughter and going into hiding for the rest of our lives. I hope this is for the best. But every time I think about that one choice, I doubt if I am making the right chioce. What if this is a bad choice? What if someone dies because of it? What if they kill my baby girl? But going into hiding is better than killing. I may always be looking over my shoulder, but at least our daughter will be safe.

Farewell. I will see you on the other side.

Dear Alex,

Sometimes you get to choose to be great and sometimes greatness is forced upon you. I fall into neither of these categories. I’m not that great. What happened to me was not my fault. But that was a while ago. I think I was born this way. Or I was cursed. But that is ancient history, and you pretty much already knew that.

I have a confession for you. This obsession I have, I can’t stop. I’ve tried. But the longer I go without acting on my obsession, the more my thoughts lean towards it. I walk down the street and I see a guy with a briefcase and I think that it would be fun to electrocute him. Or I see a teenager and think it would be fun to burn him at the stake like the Salem Witch Trials. I can’t stop these thoughts. They happen all the time. It’s driving me insane.

I have a second confession for you. These thoughts scare me. Not the wanting to kill someone part because we both know I’ve killed before, but that I have no control over my thoughts. It feels like these thoughts plague me and hold me captive. I can’t get rid of them. One day I am going to explode and go into a massacre. Just kill whoever crosses my path. That doesn’t scare me either because it kinda sounds fun. What does scare me is that you may get in the crossfire and join the dead. I don’t want that. You don’t deserve that.

You are the first person in many years to show me kindness and not see the monster that I really am. And I appreciate it. I want to stop killing because I know you don’t like it. You don’t like that I enjoy seeing the life drain from a person’s eyes. I wanted to change for you. But I can’t. I’ve been killing way too long to change. This just proves that I don’t deserve to have people in my life or to be happy.

If you haven’t figured this out yet, but this is a goodbye letter. I want to be your friend, but it just isn’t possible. Not without hurting you, and I am not willing to put either one of us in that situation. I’m too dangerous and too much of a monster. Find someone to make you happy. Forget about me. I’m not worth it. Move on. Don’t look for me. I don’t want to be found.

Sincerely,

Belle

Dear Alex,

I hope this letter finds you in good health. I know my letter said that I was saying goodbye, but it seems I can’t even do that right. I’m doing fine in case you are wondering. I found a new purpose in life. Kill people who deserve to die. I know this sounds insane, but hear me out.

I know I can’t suppress my urge and obsession to kill. But what if I use it in a different way. I still get to kill, and I will be helping society. I think my new plan will win your approval. I hope at least. I’ve always valued your opinions.

This all started when I heard about this court case get dismissed. This man had sexually abused his six year old daughter. She was too terrified to testify in court, so it got dismissed. He got off free. Not even a slap on the wrist. He still lives with his daughter. If I didn’t step in, she would probably still be abused.

Don’t worry. I took care of it.

The police found his body. They had to use DNA to identify the body because I mangled it so badly. I also cut off his testicles. He doesn’t need them. I’m not sure what I want to do with them yet. Maybe keep it as a souvenir. I thought about mailing it back to his wife, but figured it might traumatized the daughter more. I didn’t want that. I’ll keep it for now till I figure out what to do with them.

That’s pretty much how I got started on this new plan. Kill people who deserve to die. I hope you don’t hate this idea.

I also hope that you are happy. I still don’t want to be found. It is better this way. It’s better for you. But you can write me. If you want. You don’t have to. I understand.

Sincerely,

Belle

Dear Alex,

I’m glad school is going good for you. You are smart. The hard classes don’t stand a chance against your brain. I’m also glad you decided to write back even if you don’t like what I’m doing. You made that clear. But I also made clear that I can’t stop this. It’s a curse with no way to reverse it.

I’ve killed again. This woman had been out drinking at some bar and decided to drive herself home. She had no right to get behind the wheel of a car. She couldn’t even walk in a straight line. Because of her actions, she ran over a jogger on the sidewalk. He died. She drove away from the scene of the crime.

I found her though. She wasn’t that hard to track down. I shot her and cut out her liver. I left her in her car. Someone will find her at some point. I also decided to leave the testicles from the pedaphile. I got tired of seeing them. I guess this is my signature. Take and organ and leave an organ. Maybe I’ll get caught and that will end the curse.

You should probably report me. It’ll be for the best. I don’t want the cops thinking you were helping me. You aren’t. I’m working alone.

I hope school keeps going good. You sound like you are happy. I hope you find a pretty girl to love and have lots of friends. That’ll mean you have truly moved on. That’ll be good for you.

Sincerely,

Belle

Dear Alex,

I’m not surprised you got an A on the test. You don’t have any reason to stress. You are smart. Much smarter than me. You were always the better one at school between the two of us. School always felt like such a drag to me.

So my latest kill. He was a drug dealer. He liked to hang out at the local high school. Sold drug to rich, spoiled kids. They were easy prey for him. Kids’ brains aren’t developed enough to make good, rational decisions.

But look who is talking. I’m not exactly the prime example of a rational thinker. But I do wonder if the police are looking for me. I hope so because someone should probably stop me. Or not since I getting rid of the scum of the Earth.

I forced him into an overdose. I tied him down and gave him too much of whatever drug he was dealing. I don’t know what it was. Whatever it does did kill him. I also cut out his stomach because why not. I left the drug dealer’s body in the alleyway by his apartment. I did see that he had a wife and a little boy. They are better off without him. Just like you are better off without me around.

If you meet a pretty girl, I better hear about her. If you do decide to write back. I understand if you don’t want her. I also promise I won’t hurt her. You deserve happiness.

Sincerely,

Belle

Dear Alex,

She sounds very lovely. You should ask her out on a date. Maybe to the movies. I hear people like doing that. I don’t personally understand why. You just sit and stare at the screen. No talking to your date. Maybe that’s why people like it.

Just so you know, I’m not telling you everyone I’ve killed. Just my favorites. My new mission is actually really fun. I’m enjoying the hunt for people. There are so many bad people to choose from; it is sometimes hard to choose.

My recent favorite is this guy who decided to rob this gas station that was connected to a car maintenance place. He shot the clerk behind the counter and stole the money. I saw this happened. I hit the robber over the head with a tire iron that I found on the ground. He never saw it coming. I cut off his hand, and I left the gun. I don’t need the gun.

I also just left him at the gas station. I have no reason to move him. I did call for an ambulance for the clerk. Maybe he will survive. I don’t know. It is out of my hands. I gave him a bit of a fighting chance. Maybe you will approve of that.

I know you don’t like what I’m doing. You have made that clear. But I have also made it clear that I can’t stop. I’ve been doing this so long that it has taken control of me, and I have finally let it have control. I don’t expect you to understand. You can tell the cops about me. I won’t be mad. I deserve it.

Please ask that girl out. Make friends. Be happy. Have fun. Enjoy school. Don’t over work yourself. But most importantly, be yourself. You are the best person I have ever met. Don’t let anyone corrupt your light.

Sincerely,

Belle

Dear Alex,

Thank you for stopping me. I knew you were a good person. The best person I have ever met. You deserve to be happy. I was cursed to never be happy. The only time I was ever happy was with you. That can never happen because of my curse and who I am. I'm glad that you were able to stop me. Don't feel guilty about turning me in. It is for the best.

Thank you for everything.

Sincerely,

Belle