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Rated: 13+ · Other · Other · #1759001
Entry for A Moment In Time March round...
Its cold here, cold and dark in this little hole I’ve found in my mind. I think it might be where my conscience used to live.

I don’t have a conscience anymore, I guess. I didn’t listen to it once, and I haven’t heard from it since. It’s okay, though. My conscience can’t possibly hate me more than I hate myself. Two weeks ago, my life was pretty awesome. I had friends, I thought I had goals, I thought I was a good person. I’m only 17 years old and my life, I realize, is worthless. I’m not a good person. A good person doesn’t do what I did, no matter the cost, no matter the consequences. What gave me the right to do that? WHAT GAVE ME THE RIGHT TO PLAY GOD? Because apparently, that’s what I was doing. That girl is gone now, and even though she took her own life, her blood is still on my hands. All because I didn’t listen to my conscience.

I just wanted to fit in. I didn’t want to stand out, didn’t want to make waves or cause a scene. Just be you, my mom tells me. I can hear what she’s really thinking. Just fit in. Be popular, be cool, be perfect. And I was. Just another perfect, plastic doll with the right clothes, the right attitude, the right accessories. Can you believe I used to think those things mattered? It’s all gone, now. None of it matters anymore, because she’s gone, and I didn’t stop it.

I could have, I know it. Could’ve said no, could’ve walked away, should have said no, should have walked away. The other girls, they would have followed me, I think. But Libby… Libby was testing me. She wanted to see how far I would go to fit in, to be part of her group. I could see it in her eyes. So I stood there and watched, and it made me sick, but I still watched. Oh, God… that poor girl. The pain in her eyes, those beautiful crystal blue eyes. I could feel those eyes burning into me, begging for someone to stand up for her, to be decent and stop the madness, to be human. Not one of us did. And now, I’m alive and she’s not. So, here I am. Worthless. Despicable. Disgusting. That cold, dark hole in my head is growing bigger. It’s about to swallow me whole, and I’m going to let it.

If I’m lucky, my conscience will find that girl and tell her that I got exactly what I deserved.





(Word Count- 432)

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