FATE

2. A Sad Poem

JONAH

Mirror mirror on the wall

I've grown quite weary of feeling numb

How long till it ends? How long?

Is it until I fall Mirror? Until I fall?

"What are you writing about?", Hailee peers over my shoulder.

"Not now Hailee", I try to shoo her away with one hand but she doesn't budge.

"But I want to know", she breathes down my neck.

I sigh, "a sad poem", I say slowly.

She glances around the room, "you're always writing sad stuff Jonah", she moves away from me.

I ignore her for a few seconds, staring back at my journal. The words dance across the page, the punctuation, rhythm, each letter and rhyme stare back at me.

Alone I stand against a thousand demons

Alone I fight all of my wars

Alone I am on my knees, almost given up

Fear's cackling laugh making me recoil

The rustling coming from behind slightly distracts me. I close the journal and drop the pen next to it on the desk before turning around to take a good look at her. She's holding a bottle in her hand, brining it slowly to her lips before sipping slowly. Then she peeks under my bed.

"Your room is messy Jonah", Hailee says.

"What are you looking for?", I ask in an amused tone.

"Don't you have any pills?", She asks as she opens the drawer next to my bed.

"If I did, I won't give them to you. You'll die"

She looks up at me and raises an eyebrow, "I'm trying to get as high as I can before this party"

I chuckle lightly as I stand up from behind the desk and walk towards her, grabbing the bottle from her and drinking the rest of its contents.

"Are you done writing your sad poem?", She asks as she stands and sits on my bed, watching me.

I toss the empty bottle on the floor, "no, this annoying girl in my room distracted me"

She watches the bottle roll until it hits the wall, "hmm sorry", she says, "people can be annoying like that"

I cock my head at her and she giggles innocently, standing and spinning in front of me, "I need to use the bathroom"

She disappears in through the bathroom door.

I once read a quote which said, "after God, the next most powerful being is a writer" because they have the power to create universes and make people, to control these lives and destroy them if they want to. It made me wonder what the writer of my story was thinking when he took my mother- if he had a reason for creating me like this, for making me this person who couldn't let people see who he was.

If I wrote a story, it would be a happy one, because I couldn't create lives and then ruin them just because I can. That would make me a bad person and I've always tried to be anything but bad.

I collapse on the bed and turn my head to stare at my desk and the journal sitting on it. Am I a powerful being like the other writers out there? Or just a boy looking for a way to clear his thoughts?

From the bathroom, Hailee asks, "Louis just texted me. When are we leaving?"

I groan. I was so comfortable with her in my room that I totally forgot about Ryan Eaton's stupid party.