Happiness For A Pessimist

I found myself back home, the sky already turning dark. I pushed open my front door and entered my empty house, Dad wasn't home leaving me all alone in this large house. I headed up the stairs and into my bedroom lightly closing the door behind me. I walked toward my bed and sat on the edge. I felt numb inside, and I don't like it. In fact I hate it. I glanced all around my room, my eyes falling on a small suitcase sitting in my exposed closet. Without giving it a second thought I ran to it opening it up and heading to my dresser. I started pulling out clothes and throwing them into the suitcase before heading to my desk.

I glanced at the clutter littering my desk before picking up the photo of my mother. Just as I turned to leave I caught a glimpse of a photo set of John and I. I felt my lips tugging into a smile but I quickly looked away grabbing the photo along with every other photo that wasn't of my mommy. I set my moms picture in the suitcase before zipping it up and setting straight up. I looked to all the other photos and throwing them into a plastic bag before shutting off the lights of my room and leaving the house.

I walked through the dark night and headed to the local park. I walked toward a metal garbage and threw all the pictures into the garbage before setting it on fire. I watched carefully as the fire consumed all the memories that still seem to burn me inside, no matter how happy I may appear. I don't want to bring down anyone anymore. My cousins, my friends, my dad and most importantly John. I can't bring him down anymore.

Once all the pictures were nothing but ash I turned to leave, but John was standing there staring at me with watery eyes. "W-what's going on?" he questioned softly. He walked past me and looked into the garbage pulling something out. I watched as he dusted the photo off before showing it to me.

A burnt picture of us.

I bite my lip and looked away staring at the ground instead. "Why are you burning this?" John asked softly his voice cracking slightly.

"It doesn't matter." I muttered picking up my suitcase and heading toward the exit of the park.

"Haven where are you going!" John called reaching for my arm and pulling me back. "Why do you have that?" he asked.

"I'm leaving John." I whispered feeling the tears prick my eyes.

"Why?"

"It's my turn to leave John." I said sternly. "It's my turn so let me leave." I added. John was sobbing my now, his whole body was shaking and his mouth was trembling. The sight itself made me want to cry, but I took a deep breath and turned away.

Not daring to look back.