So, this is actually the essay that I wrote for my Creative Writing’s final quiz. I got 30/30. That is truly unexpected really haha. Anyway, if you’ve read The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky, then you know that the format of this writing is based on it. It is known as Epistolary [in the form of letters]. Anyway, I hope you’ll enjoy it.
I am writing this letter for you from somewhere that is geographically close. You don’t have to search for me because I will remain anonymous throughout this and the subsequent letters that I may send to you.
So I choose to write to you because you seem to be one attentive listener. I hope you’ll be attentive too when you read my rants. It’s not going to be long. Okay, what do you feel about your life? Sometimes I feel like life has been so unfair towards me. I don’t know why, but I look at other people and they have bless-fully blissful lives. Throughout my existence, I feel empty. I am just a shell. I don’t know what I am supposed to feel, like I am shut from all those emotions. Maybe I do feel sad, and by being so alone, it makes me much more of a loner. I go into my room, locked the door, and just lie on my bed from the sun-up until the sun goes down. I’m so anti on going outside. I’m a mess, am I not? I don’t care about the world. I’m indeed a mess.
15th February 2000
A few days ago, my mom introduced me to her friend, this pretty young executive at the office where she works. I don’t want to talk about her. I want to talk about her son. He’s such a beautiful boy, if you could call a boy as beautiful, but he is. We chatted a bit, and then it turned into a long conversation.
I change, friend, I change. I go to his house now. We spend time in his room always. There are lots of books and sporting equipments and stuff. He told me he loves to read poems and such. I’m currently reading one of his favourite books. The book is wonderful. I love everything, even the smell of it. I know I’m a weirdo.
Anyway, I have to cut this short. He’s downstairs now. We are going for rock climbing. Can you believe it?
25th February 2000
Have you ever felt like something is wrong with your heart? Like at any given moment, it can just burst out from your skin into the open? I am feeling that way now. My heart is beating uncontrollably, like someone is driving a train too fast.
You know, I feel like that each time I go out with the boy. I feel that way even when I am not with him. When I’m with him, I can’t turn my face away. My eyes are stuck on his like glue. I can watch him 24/7/366 (it’s a leap year now). I love the way his mouth forms this cute crescent moon shape every time he feels happy. When he laughs, his laughter feels like a beautiful piece of music. I listen to all his conversations. I hang on to all of his syllables, all his words as if my existence is tethered to what he is saying. Everything about him, oh, everything about him, I am so in love with everything about him. I think I’m a freak. There was this one time when we were on a train, he dozed off and accidentally placed his head on my shoulder. My mind was suddenly void of thoughts. Only empty space existed. I never felt like that before. It felt right and wrong. Friend, what is happening to me? I want this to stop. I want to run away.
10th April 2000
I think I’m in love with him.
12th April 2000
I did something terrible. Something that I wish I could pull back. I confessed to him. I did, I did, and I regretted it. His smile faded a little when I told him that. I’ve unknowingly created a distance between him and me. He said he just wanted to be friends but I know he felt betrayed. What we had was friendship, but now it’s gone. We’re not as close as before. No, he is not the one who is betrayed. It’s me. Why when I’ve found someone like him, it will always be shattered in the end? My life doesn’t have any silver linings. Oh God, I can still see his face. Why did I put false hopes on hi? I should have guessed, but the thing is, I still love him. Life is unfair. He can forget me. Why can’t I?
The worst is that someone heard me confessing to him, and now the whole school knows. People are calling me names and they play like a never-ending cassette player in my head. I want it to stop, just stop. I got booed, and people treated me like I’m a piece of rubbish. They said I should not exist, I should die.
Yes, I’m trash, I’m a disease, an awful disease. They don’t want a disease like me to walk around, do they? I may infect other kids around me. I’m not a decent human being just because I choose to love a guy rather than a girl. I’m half the human I used to be. They resent me. Teachers won’t do anything. My parents think I need psychological help. My mind is faulty. I’m just a machine with nowhere to go.
Friend, I’m not strong. I can’t live in a world where everyone can’t accept me. I can’t accept myself to live in a world where I’m alone. I cannot see his face, my parents’ faces, everyone’s. I’m a monster in the lives of every single person. Maybe I should just go. That is all, my dearest friend. Goodbye.
1st June 2000