I feel the darkness

creep behind me,

rattling chains

and closing gates.

Prisoner trapped

in own soul,

skin shriveled

in ruined shrouds,

trembling hands

reaching out

in muted cries

of dread.

Falling into

empty space,

broken and misplaced,

invisible figures blowing

in frozen wind of past.

Devil’s spawn dancing,

icy fingers grasping,

screaming minds

of ebony asylums.

Lying mirrors

reflecting graves

with two bodies.

Crawling toward

light, alone,

baleful howls

of invisible wolves.

Hate radiating

in the distance.

Deceiving shadows

escaping to the place

where life begins.

slowly

I changed

and I

was no longer

the person

I once was

I was not perfect

anime

and manga

and books

took over

I was no longer

getting perfect scores

slowly I slipped

and then

I

 f

   e

     l

        l

slowly

I had come

to the realization

that I

was becoming

a disappointment

to everyone

friends

family

teachers

I could no longer

meet

their expectations

where had

the perfect me gone

and then

this realization

made me

g   r   a   d   u    a    l   l   y

spiral

into

a dark prison

where I

can never escape

this change

is irrevocable

what can

I do

to end this

so that I

am no longer

a disappointment 

I don't want

to be hated

I need

to be perfect again

how

You wish to be calm, but your palms are sweating, and it takes all your concentration to keep breathing-

In,

Out,

In,

Out,

Why? Why do you feel so queasy? Why is your head swimming? Why is it getting harder for your shaky legs to keep you standing?

Why are you silent? You wish you could talk, but there's this lump in the back of your throat, and you doubt you would have been able to bring yourself to speak, anyway.

And how can they just keep walking? All around you, not even glancing up as they walk past. How do they not hear the loud beating of your heart?

How do they not-

How-

In,

Out,

You move, somehow, shaky and sweaty and cold, to the closest bathroom. You lock the door, and sit on the pleasantly cool, disgusting floor, and lean against the wall.

The sounds are muffled now, and the room smells more like cleaning products than any bathroom should, so much better than the world behind the door.

Somehow you don't throw up, and close your eyes,

Lean your head back.

In,

Out...

The crash is what caused my fear of death.

Everyone in all of those cliche books has a car crash, where either their parents, or the main character dies. Sometimes, it's tears that blur their eyes. Sometimes, it's just a bad accident. Sometimes, it's murder.

But there's almost always a crash.

And that's what happened in my case.

My parents told me that collision between two unknown sources is good. Two strangers could become best friends. That's how my parents met.

But me, I was an introvert. I hated people. Most of all, I hated collisions.

Sometimes, I think that everything will be okay. I will find peace within my home, my empty home. Sometimes, I think, even when I'm bawling my eyes out during an anxiety attack, I think that maybe I don't need to be sent to an insane asylum. Maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay. 

That day, when another car hit mine, I couldn't breathe. And you know how in the books, people say that they saw all their memories flashing before their eyes. Well for me, it was different.

I saw all my dreams, all the memories I could've made, all the things I could've done, all the opportunities I had missed, flashing before my eyes.

That day, when I ended up in the hospital, I knew I hadn't lived a full life. I knew I hadn't reached my goals. 

And ever since, I've been afraid of dying before making an impact on someone. I'm afraid of death before I've lived. 

I realized that I couldn't spend my whole life, waiting for something good to happen to me.

I had to bring the good to others.

Maybe, just maybe, next time, it won't be what I could've done, but what I have done. 

(I KNOW: this is really crappy. U SHOULD KNOW: this is not a true story)