My Soul

June 22, 2010
By Anonymous

I look out the window, wondering what I should do. I pick up a knife. Should I just get it over with? Nobody would care. Nobody is here. They are all gone. Why? Because I made them disappear. That’s what It told me. The thing living inside my soul.
“You do have no reason to live anymore,” It tells me.
“But don’t I want to live?” I ask confused like a child.
“Nobody’s here to care if you do or don’t,” It says.
“Nobody’s here. . .” I repeat.
“Nobody is here,” It tells me.
“Where did they go?” I ask. I feel drunk.
“You made them disappear,” It says.
“Did I. . .” I say trailing off. Everything seems more clear.
“Yes you did, look around. No one is here,” It says, as I look.
I see a faded memory in my head. Lying there, are my parents, but red stuff is on them. What is that stuff? Was it bad? “What’s the red stuff?” I ask.
“What red stuff?!” It asks harshly.
“I don’t know. . .” I say. Blood. That’s what it is. What is blood. Why am I listening to It. What is It?
“What are you going to do?” It asks maliciously.
“I don’t know,” I say. Blood was bad, but why? Why was blood bad? It was bad too. Wasn’t It? “Who are you?” I ask, feeling as if I had just plunged into ice water.
“What do you mean dear?” asks It, innocently.
“What are you?!” I say. I see that I’m sitting in my room on my bed. It must have lead me there. They disappeared, but they didn’t disappear! I-I killed them! “N-n-no!” I scream, “Who are you?! Leave me alone!” I yell at It.
“Why dear, I am you!” It says.
“Where is the voice coming from? I look behind me and see a mirror, and in the mirror is it, smiling with my face. “NO!” I yell throwing the knife at the mirror and it shatters. I-I-I am it!!! But how could I kill. . .murder so many people. No one is left. No one has survived, except for me. Not for any longer. I pick up the knife out of the sparkling shards. I thrust it into my chest, and everything goes dark. Everything is gone.

The author's comments:
I don't really know what made me write this, but I did. It is supposed to be her soul, and how she feels towards others, but doesn't want to feel that way.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

Parkland Book

Parkland Speaks

Smith Summer