13 Deaths

Crushed

-CRUSHED -

 I'm sick of all of them! This is a drop that poured that goddamn glass full of my blood, sweat and effort over these creatures! Ha, they will recover, of course they will, I'm just a small, insignificant pawn, but I won't recover from them, I never did and never will. Of course, you always blamed those who give their best to please you. Go to hell. (I'm drinking another sip of alcohol while driving on an empty highway)

 Why should I, a chronic loner who avoids people, worry about them at all? Why am I afraid to say what I mean and what hurts me? Damn it, I'm taught to keep silent and not insult others, but now I want to tell all of them to go to hell. Unfortunately, my moral boundary keeps me from the curses that are vulgar, these curses would only be able to show how much this hurts me. I am tired of this feeling of guilt- it seems that what was supposed to be your part of guilt was left with me, so now I'm pulling your pieces of this bloody cake too. The blood is only mine, of course, I'm "crazy" enough (your word) to let that blood down. Eh, it seems that my flaws make me less valuable for you,immaculates; you are the saints and I am either Pilate or a beggar who kisses your purified robe, while you bless everyone around you with your arms, pushing me aside so the crowd, God forbid, don't see this disgusting creature next to you. Oh, yes, I am a bitter creature whose all bones in the body have cracked from embrace of your ignorance, insensitivity, fear of your anger and hurting of your feelings, since my were broken for a hundred times as your would have been in my place. I don't claim that I am a saint - we have already established that you are that, but I know that I deserved at least some friend beside myself. Maybe I would have someone if some of you didn't turn me into someone who doesn't trust anyone. Each time it ends the same, you throw me away as a cloth.

 By the age of five I had 45 friends- hey, that's more than average five-year-old! All right, they were all dolls, not even one child. In their defense, they were the best friends in my whole life, today they are still with me though we don't see often, although I'm glad to meet them while I'm fumbling around my boxes. I hanged out with them and we spent hours together, they loved me the way I was and I loved them back - I didn't care if a certain barbie was blonde or has darker hair, whether it's new or old, if I dressed it nicely, all of them were equally beautiful to me and I admired them.

 The term "friend" got meaning in kindergarten - there were many of these friends, but one black-haired boy (the name doesn't matter to the story, maybe even he would be ashamed of me today) became closer to me than anyone else. We would sit on the floor, at different ends of the room, sending the car toys to each other until the time went by. This game lasted for months, I thought it was great to have such a buddy, younger than me only one day, but then the damn end came. That stupid end is always pulling in somewhere, isn't it? There was a time to enroll in school. Dude, I hate this part.

 In front of this freaken place I have encountered that person who would get under my skin so much that even a terrible cut wouldn't help me scratch her away. Well, for that I would have to slit my own artery so that her toxicity would disappear with blood, but this alcohol, which is pretty much in my body, can serve to forget her for a moment.

 Rule number one in my life: Don't believe people who smile often and they seem like they don't do it from the heart but somehow fake - they often hold a knife in their hands to slit your neck, just when you think everything is fine. What's a pity it is just a metaphor, memory hurts more than death. The lucky thing in the accident is that the man invented alcohol so the memories are less painful. Anyway, that creature whose smile showed all the teeth, that naive look that hides hidden intent and confusing personality weren't attracting me at all. Not only me, nobody tolerated it, now I realize that they were smarter than me about it. They had a club against her, that's how much they disliked her. By itself, she left the impression of not so naïve person, even though her eyes gave this impression- maybe it seemed to me, although I'm damn good in reading people. Damn it, I'm a weakling to the core, I'm silent and suffer rather than being an equal member of society.
After two years she completely annoyed me, I realized that it wasn't a person she pretended to be and I didn't want to have anything to do with her, but I was forced to hang out with her. Little by little she got into my life, the hell with both of us, especially because the mutual home visits were more frequent. Tolstoy said: "All happy families look like each other." Wise words, he was the personification of literature's intelligence, so this time he was right again. Apart from all, their family worked synchronized, even though they had some problems  that person talked about all the time, so much that every feeling of empathy for them was lost inside me. I didn't tell her about what was happening to me, but I had to hear EVERYTHING that happened to her. I tolerate a lot but, if someone for a thousandth time tells me what I know, what I've heard many times and whose witness I was, then I really want to send him to hell. All in vain... I've already got into my goddamn circle. The girl with whom I had good connection before it began to bully me, the class was hating me and laughed at me for everything. For a years I wondered why, and then I remembered when it started and got it - it seems they hated me because of her.