Emptiness- I guess I didn't know how to survive on my own. I clinged to others for something. Some regonition. Some reason to hold onto life. The swollen dark part inside of me, Still likes to scream. It grew into a monster, Covered in a thick black ink. I met her in the first dimension. She was the first person I smiled at after Andrew died. I think I was rather empty after she left. So I found someone new, Not brand spanking new, She was used. Worn and torn with nothing to do. So I wrote down how to make her proud. But I gave up my senses. I became blind to her actions. "Can you write a story about a war? What if we're the good side and everyone else is bad. What if we win? We should win." She'd say. "Please? I want to help you make a world." She'd beg. Then there was nothing left. Faced with a circle that I wasn't allowed to leave. Oh the way the tables had turned. When I said, "What about my thing?" Plates were shattered, A grim face staring down at me. "What did we learn?" "To listen to women." I always thought men were the only ones who could hurt you. I think I thought wrong. We'd be happy one day, Curled under the sheets with cheesy movies. The next she would ask for something. I always said yes. Then there was nothing left. I became a machine. Made for building palaces large as cities. Made for her pleasure. Made for my pain. The inky black tendrils had grown. I didn't know who I was anymore. I was standing over my own sister. I couldn't break a promise. I turned to her and smiled. "Did I do good?" "Yes, Yes, come on." She had said, Dragging me away from my own sister's body. Four dimensions later, A smile. A hand that was never alone. Because it was always holding hers. I think I hated her after my sister died. But I didn't want another bruise, Another scar. So I did what I was told. "Get off his back dude!" The first person that made me smile had said. "He wants this. Don't you?" She'd ask. "Yes ma'am" I'd answer. Always at her beck and call. I just wanted to fall. Into a deep slumber, Never to be awoken by pestering people, Or a broken dish. Or a dead sister. Having to kill a friend. Or a fire, Or barbed wire. Emptiness had consumed me, Now darker than the mud I laid in. "Don't forget me" She had hissed. "Rest easy" My friend said. "Hey bubba!" My sister smiled, Her arms wrapped around me. I walked away from the tree, I closed my eyes and felt the breeze. No longer chilly. -Jake Whitman, Candle Light
