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Weekly Contest #140
I remember the first time I cried on my birthday I had just turned fifteen. Two of my friends were in the room in various states of slumber, and my age and loneliness pressed upon me like humidity in a thunderstorm. I had to deal with three feelings: 1. Gut-retching fear that one day I’m going to die, probably alone. As these people sleep around me, I am alone in this consciousness, which is exactly what will happen when I die, too. 2. Sadness that everything my parents, hell, everyone’s parents had told us wasn’t true. We aren’t sp...
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