• Once there was a boy. In fact, scratch that. Now there is a boy, who has problems with his life, he knows he isn’t the only one with them, but he hates living with them, though, there are things keeping him alive, such as the few people he calls “friend” who when alone, he knows its all just a lie, people just say that to keep him happy for what ever reason, they like seeing others make fun of him perhaps. His family, his mum in particular as she has only the good intensions to keep him happy and protected from the evil in this world, that he doesn’t want to let her know that he already knows the pain of this lonely, unloving world. Finally, games, his favourite past time, he knows that he’ll be stuck here when he dies as he isn’t good enough for heaven, and hell simply would reject him as everything else dose, so he’s best of enjoying games while he can. Swiftly moving on, let me tell you of a tale of this person, but which tale?? There isn’t much, and they aren’t interesting…let me start of by telling you about ‘The Black Book’ he owns, yes, that’s a good place to start at. This person, he has a black book with ‘WHY??’ written in pencil on one side and ‘DND’ on the other, the DND side was the original purpose for this book, but that never happened, eventually it turned into a book of sadness and hatred, with one side posing as a disguise, hoping if anyone sees this book, they will see that side first and think nothing of it. Apart from this person, only one other has seen its pages many know of the book, but not how terrible the pages are. Page after page of this persons sadness…drawings, not that good but still gives you the sick images he sees in his head when he is up in is room trying to sleep with riddles in his head and also knowing that the next day will be the same as this one, if not worse. Before you complain “this kids just being Emo” or “attention seeker” the black book is a secret, people know of it, but they don’t know of what’s in it, so they can’t say he is wanting attention if the pages are to be seen by him alone and maybe a selected few. Let’s move on from the black book, too school…not in school, walking home from school, that’s more interesting that listening about him being bullied everyday or him being made fun of by the simple people he thinks he can call friend or him looking sadly at everyone as he is truly lonely and wants someone to hold… Walking home he talks to him self, or as he says the man in his head, a figment of his imagination, he knows it, but it’s lonely and enjoys talking to him self, to keep him company. Even though he doesn’t always walk home, he does prefer it, he can think about the problems, beating his head into submission, and he can Mars Bar and a can of Coca-Cola. Let’s next go to when he showed the person, the only person, who’s seen the pages of the black book. Night, he’s lonely, but enjoys the calm, beauty of the night sky and the gentle coolness of the loving wind. The lights in his room was off, this was on his brothers 18th birthday, what eventually turns into one of the worst nights of his life, but that’s not important, he wishes all he could hear was the wind, but the music was loud down stairs, and if it had been raining, that would have made it better as the rain smells pure, clean, and it makes such a wonderful noise as it patters off the ground. But that wasn’t going to happen, he draws another picture in the book, as he is, his cousin walks in, one of the only people he can trust, him and the boy talk, when he finishes drawing, he puts the book in his pillow cover, where it is keep most of the time, they continue talking. The boy asks his cousin if he thinks there is something wrong with his life, his cousin replies with a no, so he shows him the black book. He says he needs a physiatrist, what he admits is true, but he didn’t want to waste money, or anyone else’s time for that matter. His cousin tells him words that help convince him, but lets avoid mentioning the reasons as they don’t matter much. Since that specific day where he showed the book to someone else, and right now when I am writing this, the boy hasn’t asked to see a physiatrist, though I still write and draw the pictures in the black book, to get rid of the evil of my mind, as it is slowly darkening my mind and soon it will become me and I will do something I will regret. First sight isn’t anything, but in the end, what dose it matter, life is here, it’s not going to end any quicker, is it? Not unless someone or my self has something to say about that, but I stay to continue, somewhere there will be someone who cares…someone who will let me hold her in my arms, and tell her sweet caring words I would only whisper in her ear as she means a lot too me…until then…I will wait…if you are somewhat like me, and just need someone to talk to, don’t be afraid, I am a shy person, who has a mental block whenever I try to say something to anyone, other than those I have known for years upon years, my mouth fails to move and I end up sad and alone as always. This is the true story of my life, don’t be afraid to share yours…but just remember, this is our little secret, that I told you my story…