Why Do I Even Bother Novels & Stories

"The cold never bother me anyway." Why does that sounds so familiar? ***

I always went home two hours earlier. And that was another problem; the fact I got home so early. I had nobody to hang out with, so what did I do? Clean the flat until my hands burned. Go jogging for hours and hours. Read all the books I had. Not only was I bored, I felt as if everything around me was just so ... bothersome. Why bother dressing nicely? Why bother going out? Why do anything at all? Nobody saw me, nor did anybody judge me. What sense did it make? I had lost it all, what more could I lose?

“How did you even know?” She laughed, shaking her head. “What else would get you looking so worked up? Come on.” I gasped as I began to stir the caramel evenly through the drink with such seriousness like it had a personal beef with me. “Maybe I should stop bothering you with my problems.” I blurted out my thoughts. Hailey gave me a puzzled look. “Why?” I shrugged. “It's boring, right?” She rolled her perfect green eyes. “Of course it is. But go on anyway.”

Could be anything, really. Like every other person in the world, I have my limitations. I don’t like myself, don’t think anyone does. Not with the temper that I always bristle with. After all, people stay away from those who make a scene. And the experience I have in that department, it’s impossible to break that record. But causing a scene and drawing unwanted attention to yourself doesn’t happen out of a hobby. No one enjoys the look of ‘what a weirdo’ people define them with. No one. Trust me.

What am I even thinking? I threw my head back against the couch, exhaling loudly. Just lying here was tiring. I needed something—anything—to pull me away from this endless cycle of thoughts. Grabbing my phone, I started scrolling through random pages, but nothing held my interest. Then, something hit me—I hadn’t received any of those cryptic messages lately. I had been so busy that I hadn’t even noticed. My brows furrowed. Maybe the good-for-nothing bastard finally decided to stop messing with me.

I just don’t know what to feel. Am I too selfish to think I don’t like it? That it wasn't the one I wanted to do. Okay, I don’t know what to do but I felt there’s something to do, not that. We can still make another plan. I mean, there’s always a plan b, right? Wait, I don’t know. I'm confused. I cannot think straight. Why, why does all this have to happen? Why just can't we be normal like other people? Why can't we stay human, live like humans, grow old together, die, and be reincarnated again?

𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙, 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙪𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙣�

I dragged a hand over my face, sighing. Boredom. That’s what it was. Heavy, dull boredom mixed with exhaustion, pressing down on me until I couldn’t tell if I wanted to sleep or scream. I scrolled through my phone for a while, flicking between apps without caring about any of them. A few people had sent me DMs from my livestream earlier, comments about my last post, offers I wasn’t in the mood to answer. I scrolled past all of it. Nothing stuck. Nothing mattered.

I asked myself. “Why am I even thinking about that? Tsk!” I muttered under my breath.

Somewhere safe. “I just want to feel useful again,” I admit quietly. Anita’s eyes soften painfully at that sentence. “You are useful.” “I know what you mean,” I say quickly. “But right now, I feel stuck.” I hug one of the throw pillows lightly against myself. “I wake up every day trying not to think about sad things. Trying not to cry. Trying not to remember.” I exhale softly. “And honestly… it’s exhausting.” The room grows quiet again. “I think working would help me.” I say.