• " I can't love you anymore.. And I never will Kyoko." James said in a soft voice, avoiding my eyes.

    "But.. I still love you.." My voice shook, as tears fell down my cheeks, "Why are you doing this?!"

    He finally looked into my eyes and sighed deeply, "I can't tell why." He raised his hands to caress my face but I only pushed it aside.

    "Don't touch me." I said looking away.

    I don't understand, I just don't understand him. Why is he doing this? Does he love someone else? I looked down at my feet and noticed how dirty they were. There were small spots of dirt on there along with some paint. Maybe he's disgusted at the way I looked. I almost agreed with myself. I always have something on my face, even if I were to be in a clean area. I tried wiping my tears away, but more came, more and more. The tears were so stubborn, they didn't want to give up.

    "I-I'm sorry." James stammered and turned around, slowly walking away.

    I hated him, everything about him now. He hurt my heart, he hurt me heart so badly, even if he didn't say it so cruelly. I could almost hear the faint thumping in my heart, slowly fading, slowly breaking into pieces, and shattering into a million pieces that no one could ever succeed in putting my heart back together. It was as if James, had stolen a piece of my heart, and never gave it back. I want that piece back.. I NEEDthat piece back!

    I turned my back on him, and took a step forward. Only one step was all it took for me to tear away from him, and his sorry excuse of a life. I wanted him to die, I wanted him to die alone.

    Two weeks after the day James told me he didn't love me anymore, I began breaking away from my friends, ignoring them, and slowly becoming a loner. I didn't want to talk to anybody, and I didn't want to feel the presence of humanity, but I never got what I wanted.

    I sighed, today was another day, another day if ignorance from me. It already hurted me enough to have James go to the same school, now my friends wont leave me alone anymore.

    "Kyoko? What's wrong? You can tell me." One of my friends said to me during lunch. I only shook my head and sighed once more. Even the hurt expression on my friend's face gave me pain, but what else could I do?

    It was almost as if I became emo.... and I was actually thinking about being Emo. School, home, I could never get away from the past, the horrible past that is actually the truth. I want to find that missing piece in my heart, the piece that would give me back the most important human emotion, love.

    Now home was worse than school. "Kyoko... Can I make you some tea?" My mother asks me the same question every time I come back home stomping into my room while my father was cursing and threatening the boy without actually doing what he said. My mother would come into my room, only to see her daughter staring blankly off into space not even completing her homework.

    When I come into my room, I feel peace and serenity. I don't know why, maybe it's just the thought of being alone once in a while, without having anyone to scold or yell at you.

    "James.." Sometimes I even wonder why I bother saying his name when he's no longer in my life.

    I'm not totally over him.. I think I still like him in some way, but it's hard to tell at this point. But what is this point that I'm talking about? I think this point in my life is when I start rejecting everybody's concern and love for me, pushing people away, talking to myself, and loving nothing other than myself. I should love myself. I don't love myself in a way that makes me a conceited and selfish Jerk. I love myself in a way that makes me take care of my body well.

    Actually, it really is a funny thing. As the days passed by, I started believing that I can't love anyone. Because If I love someone other than myself, I would end up losing them. If I love myself and only myself, then when I lose myself, I'd still be with me, just unconsciously. That would be easier for me. When I die, that is the day I lose myself, almost the same as when you are married. When you are married with the one you love for the rest of your life, then when you die, you lose your loved one. Being married is better than having a boyfriend, because you have a better chance at staying with the person you love longer than having a boyfriend. Sometimes I wonder why the boyfriend/girlfriend stage even exists. Does that stage even have a point in existing? I think not. Why can't you go to the friend stage, then jump into the marriage stage instead of going through the drama in the boyfriend/girlfriend stage.

    I sighed and stared out at the window in my room. Staring... Thinking... Sighing.. Wondering... Staring.. thinking.. Sighing.. wondering..

    "I'm doing too many things alone.. When will I be able to go back into my social life?" I asked myself.

    As the days passed by, I started becoming a bit paranoid. My mind as conjured up these pictures of real people and soon, to my own eyes, they have come to life. They have been talking to me for about 4 months now, and I've been laughing at their jokes,, and my family would come in asking who I was talking to, and I would point at the air. They always gave me worried expressions and left the room. These people, my family calls imaginary friends have gotten so close to me, they have almost controlled me. They tell me to do these odd things, and I always end up listening to them.. But what choice do I have? I've got nothing better to do with my life.

    "Eat.. the slug..." They would say.

    "Chop down the tree." They would say.

    "Chew the dirt" They would say.

    "Lick you face." They would say.

    "Cutt you wrist." They would say.

    "Kidnapp a little boy." They would say.
    And do you want to know the scary part? I did everything they told me to do.. Every single thing, and I wrote it down on a piece of paper. Then one day, my little voice told me to kill my last love. Guess who my last love was? You guessed right. It was James, and I killed him.

    April 15, 1940 was the day James Paterson died. It only looked like he committed suicide, but I’m the only one who actually knew what happened. That night, I brought my axe and slipped on my dad’s ski mask. It was the best disguise ever. Even though I was doing this, it didn’t mean that I didn’t have any regrets. I mean, of course I had regrets, but I felt like I had to listen to these voices inside my head. Anyways.. I chopped off his head. Completely.
    Days later, I told my parents I was hearing voices in my heads and I actually listened to them. My parents thought it was bets for me to put me in a mental hospital, but I didn’t think so. As soon as I was locked up, I was tied down onto the bed. I banged cans on the bars, and I shook them. I even tried gnawing at my arm for no reason. The voices were getting louder, and then the time came for me to break down and completely lose it.
    “GET. OUT. OF. MY. HEAD!” I yelled.
    “NO!”I yelled back.
    The nurses came and got me and immediately took me to the doctors. The doctors tried to calm me down but I only slapped him across the face and ignored every sentence.
    “THAT’S IT!” The doctor stood up and grabbed my arm. He yanked me into a dark room and strapped me down onto the bed.
    More nurses entered the room, they eve strapped my head down on the bed. I didn’t understand what was going on. WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON?! I moved side to side, up and down, but nothing seemed to work. The voices grew even louder. So loud in fact, that I almost felt my ear drums popping. The nurses attached these things to my head, they looked like extra eyes attached to tubes. The tubes were attached to a machine. The things were on my forehead. What were they doing? I don’t get it.. I don’t get it at all.. The doctors pressed a couple of button and turned some knobs. The nurses held my arms and legs down, while the doctor did his job. I don’t get it! Let me out of here!! Then I felt it.
    When the doctor pressed the red button, I felt a jolt of shock run through my body. Then it turned into excruciating pain!
    “AHHH!” I yelled! But the nursed covered my mouth.
    This was electricity! Oh my god.. I’m going to die.. I’m going to die. The look in their faces, their crooked evil smiles, their evil laughs. I hear it all.. Wait, are the voices doing this to me? Are they making me hallucinate?! NO! I’m confused! I can’t tell from reality or fantasy anymore! Why can’t I?! I just want to go home, make up with my friends again, make my parents happy, but it’s all too late. The electricity made my body jump. It hurt so much… It hurt.. It hurt.. It hurt so much that it got to the point where my mouth was uncontrollably spilling out foam (I think it was spit. Ew, but OW). It was all coming out, I could barely breathe. The things attached to my forehead was getting hotter and hotter. I felt like I was on fire. Every nerve in my body seemed to have exploded, then I felt nothing..
    Nothing.. I felt nothing after that.. I saw nothing after that… I smelled, nor felt, nor loved, nor hated, nore. Erm.. Well you get my point. I was gone. And you know what the sad part was? I still couldn’t tell the difference between reality and fantasy… I didn’t even know if what I just experience was reality or fantasy.. I don’t know anymore.. And I never will.. Because I’m gone…