"I feel like I'm dead to the world." I said to myself, over and over again. There is time like this when everything just seemed so delusional, and suddenly I felt like I'm already dead. I existed, but my corpse remained untouched in my own delusional grave.
"Maybe you should leave behind these demons inside you." There, it whispered to me again. The voice of an angel, I wished I could see this angel and make him stay. Because too many people walked away after saying nice things, it just made me suffered more.
"But I am already dead, to the world. How could they not notice me, when I stand right next to them?" I asked the angel that I could not see. I longed for a companion, the one who could hear me crying my guts till I drop dead and hit the bottom.
"You don't need anyone else. You just need yourself."
But, did I really need people to see me?
Wallowing myself in my own sadness, keeping my thought inside my own sanctuary, preserving my feeling in my own crypt, all these things I kept to myself and now did I really need someone to break that boundary? What if I let that someone in, and suddenly he broke my trust and escaped from me? What would I do then?
"I don't trust people. They hurt me before. They will hurt me again." I reminded myself, of all the pain I had when dealing with human-beings.
"Then, just keep living in your world and never come out. People don't need to see you, they will never appreciate what you have. Bury yourself in your own grave, for there will be more to discover about yourself." The angel talked to me again.
I looked at the razor I held in my grip for so long. I had been carrying this razor, as a company to my loneliness, so that when I felt melancholic and estranged, it was there for me to cheer me up with the glimpse of the crimson flowing river upon my hands.
"Yeah, it's time for me to go, for real. I need to be in my own space. Farewell world, now I am really dead to the world."
Finally, this story ended with a suicide note and a corpse, bleeding till death.