A Cry for Help

Lying with my eyes wide open, the blanket of pure darkness coated my tiny frame again. The little thorns
in my twin-sized bed are starting to thrust themselves in my body, a body that is only covered with
delicate and transparent flesh. My head was throbbing and all I can feel in my core is pain... and sorrow...
and loneliness.

To try to ease my pain, I dashed onto my nightstand that is sitting closely in my bed. I grabbed any thing I
could get on that table and found my phone staring straightly at me but looking dead on my calloused
hand. I smiled. This will do.

I opened my phone. Scrolled through my few contacts. I called every single one of them, letting them
know I am awake, alive and kicking. No one answered. It was 2 in the morning, I guess everyone was still
soundly asleep. Or they just don't care.

I put my phone to where I got it. I sighed. I hold onto any human flesh I could grasp. Mine. The air in my
room was as cold as ice. I looked around. The paintings I bought on a thrift shop years ago that were
hanging on the four cornered walls in my room suddenly looked bland and blue and old. The pile of
books in the foot of my bed that once accompanied me when I was younger looked like trashes of papers
now. I saw how everything was organized and placed to where it should be yet I know it was not what it
seemed to be. Everything I put my vision to is painted gray. It could not help that every inch of my body
was at its greatest invisible pain.

I cried. Not a cry of tears but a cry of despair, a cry of call, a cry for help, hoping someone would hear my
pain. No one did. A noise coming from of my upper closet surprised me not. I saw no one but a bundle of
rope tugged loosely on my hanged clothes yet I was no longer scared. This was probably the time. I
smiled. This will do.

----

When we see people calling us, let us hear them. When they cry for help, let them know they are heard.
Please. Life is so much precious to just be wasted so please do not stain it with just one deep scar for
scars could still be healed, no matter how deep it dug you up. Let us survive this cruel world. We can still.