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There used to be people here. I wasn't always this lonely. The whole room was full of my family and friends and it was always such a nice, happy place to be. Everything was great. I was so alive and free. But then it happened and I woke up. Not even sure if I was dead or alive. I'm trapped forever in this world, in this confusion. Then, my whole family closed all the curtains and dressed in black. Everyone's face looked blank and depressing. They were weeping and mourning me. They thought I was dead but I'm still here in this room ' I'm not dead. I don't think I'm that alive but I'm not dead. I'm here! ' I tried to get their attentions, to talk to them but they seemed to ignore me.
I gave up. Nothing I did or said made them see me.
I wonder the house watching as time passes by. My Mum and Dad continued living their lives without me --- that was the most painful part of it. They were crying because they thought I had gone but I haven't gone. Even though you can't see me doesn't mean I'm not there.
One day, they packed lots of stuff into boxes, lots of my stuff into boxes. Suitcases were packed. They were going on holiday ' without me. I felt like I didn't exist. They left.
They still haven't come back. I've given up hope because there's a 'FOR SALE' sign outside the house. I'm so lonely and lost. I feel trapped in my own life. I wish I could turn back time or run away. Is it a dream? Am I alive or am I Dead? I still don't know.