Sitting there and staring at the wall as I let my thoughts just disappear and ever return again. Too lost in my own sorrow to even bother think about anything else, he's rambling on about how it is his birthday and how he wants to spend it with me but I continue to ignore it and ignore him. I hear all of his words but my brain just doesn't accept that information nor does it accept anything but the shocking pain that still flows through me like the blood in my veins. Neither do I want to listen nor do I have the need to.

He sits on a chair and holds one of my hands. Even after some days I still feel like I have Mark's blood on my hands. Despite him having washed it away, it feels like it's still there and I can still see it. As clear as I can see the wall in front of me. Which only grows more and more interesting every single day that I watch it. I only know that I have been here for more than a month as he said it some time ago but that amount of time worries me for no one is coming, no one cares.

What I cannot understand is how they don't know that it's him. He does not hide it from anyone. He stays here with me for a long time and no one wonders where he is. Though it is not my place to think about what others are doing. They have forgotten about me, I'm not someone they can dwell on, and they've forgotten. They don't want me to be found and even if I am found I will be nothing but a skeleton and it will be a couple of decades from now.

The sad thing is that no one is going to know who I am once they find my bones and somehow I don't care about that. I will be where I wanted to me. After all the pain that I've been through, death is all that I need. I crave it more than I have ever craved anything in my life. I need it too much and I don't think that I will be able to live through all of this so perhaps soon it will decide to greet me like it has done to Mark and so many others.

"How about we stream our date so the whole world can see? I'm sure they would love that. I sure do..." He goes on and on with my mind only catching one sentence which doesn't make much sense to me at all. Nothing makes sense as everything inside my brain is just muddy. There is too much going and so little at the same time. In the corners of my eyes I see him pace around the room as he speaks and I wonder if he's speaking to himself, or if he knows that I'm not really listening to him.

What is even the point? I have no say in the matter and if he doesn't get to do the things that he want he will punish me and hurt someone else. I will not let another person lose their life because of me. It's all my fault that he's dead. It's my fault and I will never be able to make up for it. "I have an idea... wait here" He speaks, and then he is out of the room and the door closes. The silence meeting me once again which I find that I like more than his voice.

While the silence threatens to tear me apart from the inside out with the poisonous thoughts inside my mind, his voice brings this fear out that has me shaking. There is no telling what he might do next and I don't know what is going to happen. All I can do is stare at the wall and just allow my thoughts to wander about everything and nothing at the same time. Some times counting the seconds and some times thinking about how death should be taking me away from this world to spare me the pain and the suffering that I'm enduring.

It's getting harder to breathe from the pain inside my chest and while the pain is not on the outside, it's definitely on the inside and it's inside my heart. My heart can't take this pain any longer. I need to get it out and the only way to do that is by death. The one thing that keeps rejecting me and doesn't want me and I can't even seem to understand why that is. The door opens again, and he walks inside the room and my body shakes like it always does when he's around me.

Every single day it feels like he's stabbing me in the stomach with a hundred thousand knives and it doesn't stop. It hurts so much and it only brings back the most horrible memories that I've ever had. Yet, I don't scream at him. I don't do anything. There is no point in fighting back when I have nothing to fight for and I don't have any will it fight. I'm not strong enough to survive this. He holds a bag up to my face and my vision starts to look at that instead of the wall.

I nearly gasp when I see what is inside that plastic bag and it makes me want to empty my stomach. Just like it did when his head was on my lap. Now his hand is inside that bag and there is so much blood. "I was thinking since we have this leftover that we could share it" He says and a dark and twisted chuckle escapes past his lips. This is so cruel and so evil that I can barely even make sense out of it. All that is running through my head right now is how can he do this to his own brother?