Status: I don't own the song, I got the lyrics from a music vedio up on youtube, that song just somehow made me want to type out a short story. I never written short stories before, so this is my first. If it makes no sense I am sorry, forgive me, but I do hope I get some good Mibba readers to give it a try
Isn't Something Missing?
(Only Chapter)
"Why do you always touch your chest like that?"
"No reason..."
No one cared to ask me such a question... a question that I never have been asked because I would not make it noticeable that my chest pains were mostly of hidden pain that was only triggered by an insecurity I had. I never mentioned it to anybody... I thought it was nothing, nothing important, that I could deal with it on my own. It has been 3 years I've dealt with it, not speaking of the pain at all, it was my own little secret.
"The scars... what are they of?"
"... Past stuff..."
They were something I was not proud of... I smiled every single time I would tell the story and say with confidence that I was over that stage and grew into something more stronger. But deep down I was hurting my conscious and attacking my heart with razor sharp thoughts and judgment. My wall was always hard to bring down... but my eyes always lied to whoever would try to come inside, lies and lies was all it told to anyone who intruded. Even him...
"I want to let you know..."
"What?"
"I...... I feel like I like you...."
"What...?"
"I like you... I know we have not known eachother for a long time, but..... I like what I feel when I am around you..."
"But... we hardly have a conversation... we don't hang out, and I have not shown any interest towards you, you seem mysterious and just.... weird... you have scars that you can't exlain, you're just............ Im sorry.... I.... I can't do it....."
"........"
The answer, a very common typical answer...... I just never thought I would hear it from him... I never heard it from anyone else until I ended up not caring about them and I never believed the horrible things I heard behind me. But I guess.... they were all right.... they all had one thing in common... but something was missing between everything they said. Behind every cut, their was a tragedy, behind every scar their was a horrible story, inside every tear their was trauma, fear, weakness. And it was all buried under one mind... inside a chest that always hurt, behind the happiness that I would show. Am I... feeling sorry for myself? A lot would think so.... my suicide letters convinced no one..... but me.
"You don't have to do anything.... and I want you to know that I am not hurt..."
I am hurt... I just don't want you to know... I don't want you to suspect even though I know you won't.
"... I just wanted to let you know... you are such an amazing person... I didn't expect you to feel the same way back..."
I hoped that through this whole time you cared... that maybe I was..... important? That's the word I wanted to feel inside........ something that I believed was real.
"... But I do want you to know.... that you mean something to me... I don't know you at all.... but I am allowed to say that you mean something.... because everyone should mean something to someone..."
Except for me. I am not the exception. I am not the one. I am only a body that walks on the surface on this earth to serve purpose to those who need it. And I am gone. I could be a stone you kick, a heartache you feel.... or a burden you want to get rid of.
"... Let's forget what was said..."
"I can't, I feel like you are not ok..."
"I am fine..."
I am fine... I will be fine... you will be fine... you will be fine............
"Believe me.... I am fine"
I didn't feel fine when I cried my way home. I didn't feel fine when I sat near my misty cold window listening to Evanescence-Missing, and yelling out to whoever heard me through my room. I was not fine when I found the blade that hid under my mattress, I was not fine when I re-read my suicide letters over and over again, having them scattered all around me. I was not fine when I looked up. When I finally realized.... that no one missed me. I repeated Amy Lee's words, as I ran my blade across my throat fiercely and quick, tears burning the open severe wound..... and the song never stopped........ never...........................................
Evanescence-Missing
Please, please forgive me
But I won't be home again
Maybe someday you'll look up
And barely conscious you'll say to no one
Isn't something missing
You won't cry for my absence I know
You forgot me long ago
Am I that unimportant
Am I so insignificant
Isn't something missing
Isn't someone missing me
(Chorus)
Even though I am the sacrifice
You won't try for me not now
Though I die to know you love me
I am all alone
Isn't someone missing me
You won't say the word please
Please, please forgive me
But I won't be home again
I know what you do to yourself
I breathe deep and cry out
Isn't something missing
Isn't someone missing me
(Back to Chorus)
And if I bleed
I'll bleed
Knowing you won't care
And if I sleep
Just to dream of you
And wake without you there
Isn't something missing
Isn't someone missing me
(Back to Chorus)
Isn't something missing
Isn't someone missing me
"No reason..."
No one cared to ask me such a question... a question that I never have been asked because I would not make it noticeable that my chest pains were mostly of hidden pain that was only triggered by an insecurity I had. I never mentioned it to anybody... I thought it was nothing, nothing important, that I could deal with it on my own. It has been 3 years I've dealt with it, not speaking of the pain at all, it was my own little secret.
"The scars... what are they of?"
"... Past stuff..."
They were something I was not proud of... I smiled every single time I would tell the story and say with confidence that I was over that stage and grew into something more stronger. But deep down I was hurting my conscious and attacking my heart with razor sharp thoughts and judgment. My wall was always hard to bring down... but my eyes always lied to whoever would try to come inside, lies and lies was all it told to anyone who intruded. Even him...
"I want to let you know..."
"What?"
"I...... I feel like I like you...."
"What...?"
"I like you... I know we have not known eachother for a long time, but..... I like what I feel when I am around you..."
"But... we hardly have a conversation... we don't hang out, and I have not shown any interest towards you, you seem mysterious and just.... weird... you have scars that you can't exlain, you're just............ Im sorry.... I.... I can't do it....."
"........"
The answer, a very common typical answer...... I just never thought I would hear it from him... I never heard it from anyone else until I ended up not caring about them and I never believed the horrible things I heard behind me. But I guess.... they were all right.... they all had one thing in common... but something was missing between everything they said. Behind every cut, their was a tragedy, behind every scar their was a horrible story, inside every tear their was trauma, fear, weakness. And it was all buried under one mind... inside a chest that always hurt, behind the happiness that I would show. Am I... feeling sorry for myself? A lot would think so.... my suicide letters convinced no one..... but me.
"You don't have to do anything.... and I want you to know that I am not hurt..."
I am hurt... I just don't want you to know... I don't want you to suspect even though I know you won't.
"... I just wanted to let you know... you are such an amazing person... I didn't expect you to feel the same way back..."
I hoped that through this whole time you cared... that maybe I was..... important? That's the word I wanted to feel inside........ something that I believed was real.
"... But I do want you to know.... that you mean something to me... I don't know you at all.... but I am allowed to say that you mean something.... because everyone should mean something to someone..."
Except for me. I am not the exception. I am not the one. I am only a body that walks on the surface on this earth to serve purpose to those who need it. And I am gone. I could be a stone you kick, a heartache you feel.... or a burden you want to get rid of.
"... Let's forget what was said..."
"I can't, I feel like you are not ok..."
"I am fine..."
I am fine... I will be fine... you will be fine... you will be fine............
"Believe me.... I am fine"
I didn't feel fine when I cried my way home. I didn't feel fine when I sat near my misty cold window listening to Evanescence-Missing, and yelling out to whoever heard me through my room. I was not fine when I found the blade that hid under my mattress, I was not fine when I re-read my suicide letters over and over again, having them scattered all around me. I was not fine when I looked up. When I finally realized.... that no one missed me. I repeated Amy Lee's words, as I ran my blade across my throat fiercely and quick, tears burning the open severe wound..... and the song never stopped........ never...........................................
Evanescence-Missing
Please, please forgive me
But I won't be home again
Maybe someday you'll look up
And barely conscious you'll say to no one
Isn't something missing
You won't cry for my absence I know
You forgot me long ago
Am I that unimportant
Am I so insignificant
Isn't something missing
Isn't someone missing me
(Chorus)
Even though I am the sacrifice
You won't try for me not now
Though I die to know you love me
I am all alone
Isn't someone missing me
You won't say the word please
Please, please forgive me
But I won't be home again
I know what you do to yourself
I breathe deep and cry out
Isn't something missing
Isn't someone missing me
(Back to Chorus)
And if I bleed
I'll bleed
Knowing you won't care
And if I sleep
Just to dream of you
And wake without you there
Isn't something missing
Isn't someone missing me
(Back to Chorus)
Isn't something missing
Isn't someone missing me