I regret believing the lies.

A true story.. I just needed somewhere to let my emotions out.


It fills your heart.

It makes you feel alive.


Until you discover the burning truth behind it all.

The belief: the lies.

I was your typical, geeky girl. Everything was science. It explained everything.

This is the part where you think I get all obedient and turn into some religous freak, right?

Think again.

I started having doubts about God being untrue. People called God 'Him' and 'Our Saviour'.

But then, I thought, what if God was not in fact one man, but multiple people? These impossibly beautiful Gods, roaming high above the Earth?

You see that, I learned to believe.

And like every tween girl, I was having friend troubles, revision stress, and just stuff piled ontop of it, and the pile kept getting bigger, and bigger, and bigger.

So you know what I did?

I prayed to them. Before I went to bed, I sat up, and I whispered a prayer. Amen. I shut my eyes, and went to sleep.

And, the pile seemed to be getting smaller again.

Between me and my friends, everything had gotten calm: we still weren't talking, but we didn't like eachother.

But of course not. One of them goes and starts something up infront of the whole class.

It's okay, I think to myself. They have millions of people praying to them. I can't have everything, can I?

So I got on with it.

A few days later, I woke up to devastating news.

My 2nd Cousin had a heart attack, and died at the age of 28.

So I burst out into tears, my Mum soothed me.

"It's okay, you didn't really know him that well anyway, did you?"

But Mum, that's the reason it hurts so bad.

Sometimes, he'd ask for a hug. I'd get embarassed and shake my head. Now I think, why? Why, you silly cow? All he wanted was a hug. A plain, simple hug. And you can't even give that to him now. Can't do anything.

I think that humans.. the way we cope with things is beating ourselves up about it, blaming ourselves. Some people learn to laugh their way out of it, but to me that's inconsiderate and mean.

I have took option one. And I don't care whether I beat myself up physically or emotionally, to be honest. I'll probably do both.

I believed God would give me all they could.

But guess what?

They didn't.

To them, I'm a tiny spec of dust, floating in their world.

A tiny spec of dust, begging, just begging, to be saved from myself.

The End

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