Such a grotesque emotion. One who has regret, is one who has truly understands their past. Regret can be constructed of love, hatred, anger, and many more emotions that make each of us feel, and act as humans. Regret is not only a curse, but a cure. A cure for weakness in which regret is formed from. Anyone can regret, few can learn from it.

Sure, I am only 16. When did age determine how important one's self is, in the first place? Society has everyone in a bunch about how teenagers are immature, incomplete members of society, and are there to grow and ripen, like fruit on the tree of life. Being grown on such a tree in which only the arrogant place us, is disgraceful and disgusting. I am my own tree, therefore I can say that I am mature enough to understand what love is. Now don't get me wrong, there are indeed some teenagers who really are immature, and who really do not understand a thing about love, yet I am not one of those people. People tend to get love confused with the urge to reproduce, and in which case, you are severely wrong. Although I will not sit here and explain how I interpret love, what I will say is that it is addictive. It is addictive. Love will make people do astonishingly stupid things, all for the cloak of warmth that love puts over ones true soul. If you have truly felt love, you will have an irksome desire to keep on experiencing it, that is the curse that one must bear for any type of love. That is the curse love wakes in its path. Love, is addictive.

I dont understand myself. I am helping to everyone other than myself. I feel empty, not a lonely empty, just very very hollow. I feel as though time is drifting by just to displease me. I finally figured it out, it not her thats making me feel this way, its my life. This is how I normally felt. She just made me feel good because she was something I could have, something I can love. Ah, well passing times will not be brought up again. Maybe I was meant for nothing more than what I always dream of, maybe this is as exciting as life gets. A fraction of me still hopes there is magic, and monsters, or something to make life interesting. Maybe ill never know. You know it takes a lot of effort not to be angry at him, it's not his fault she is attractive and pretty. Maybe he will go through what I've gone through with her. Maybe. Well, this concludes tonight. Good night to myself.

I sit in my room as the music drowns out my surroundings. Mum is out, working the night shift. My arm tingles as the hairs rise on my arm. I take off my headphones. Complete silence. Something is watching me from outside, I can feel it. I stare outside the window, pitch black, only my reflection stares back at me. My dog is barking, something is moving. I go to look out the window once more, my dog stop barking. I look at my iPod, 2:34 A.M. I creep down my stairs as I turn on the kitchen light, I see the back door open. I wander through the door, looking for my dog. The kitchen light shuts off. I look back and something touches my leg. I scream as I fall. I look to the dark void of the night. Nothing is there. My heart pounds in my chest. The wind rustles outside. I stay on the floor, and then I notice it. The shed light is on, its feint but I can see it in the gloomy night. I walk out the kitchen door once more, only to step in a mud. I look down to see what the substance is. I stop breathing as I remove my foot from my dogs digestive track. There are blood organs everywhere. I throw up on myself as urine leaks down my leg. I have no breath to scream. I am weak. I try to focus on getting to the house phone, but the shed leads me. I feel my arms tingling again. My head is dizzy. I only see the light ahead of me. I go to the entrance of the shed, and creak the door open. The light blinds me. I cannot move, I cannot see. My eyes adjust to the brightness. Darkness takes my vision. I am lying down in my bed. I open my eyes. This is not my bed. I am lying on a metal slab. My head is pounding. I do not feel my limbs. I look around, the room is pitch black. I sit up in place, something is watching me. The hair on my arms rise. I look around the room. Something is in the corner. I can feel its presence. I cannot speak, I cannot move. I stare. The figure circles me. My head is spinning. Something is not right. I feel something. I look down. The darkness take my vision. I wake up. I am in bed. It is morning. I breath suddenly, gasping for air. It is quiet. I go to my door, open it. I go down stairs. I see my mother, warmth of love spreads through me. I go cold. My mother is pouring milk on the floor. I cannot move. I cannot speak. My mother looks at me. Her pupils have filled her eyes. She smiles. Something is not right. The hair on my arms rise. Darkness takes my vision.