My mind is clearing from a fog. I can’t remember what happened, I had some coffee and started to read on how we are getting a new shoe store down the street then blank. I crack one of my lids open to survey where I am. The bright light that hits my eyes makes me wince and snap shut my eyelids again. I can feel the ground humming beneath my feet, the reverberations wracking my bones in a way I’m not used to. It’s not a car and not a train or a boat. I finally open one eye and see a small window. Out of the window all I can see are endless clouds and bright blue sky. I come to my senses and open both eyes to look out of the tiny window. I rub my eyes furiously thinking my mind is playing a sick joke on me. But as I touch the small cool window and the plastic bild around it I know this is no sick joke. I look around and see three other people. An old lady knitting, a little boy kicking a seat, and a young-looking woman reading a book.

I am a cat. Now I know that cats are great and all, but sometimes it's just very boring. Yes, I get to eat all the canned tuna fish I want, and yes my owners love me and pet me all the time.  It’s very serene here in my house and that's great, but sometimes I wish for a little excitement, a little trouble. I wish I could get out of the house, embark on new adventures, and see the world. I would love to go to the ocean and try and catch my own tuna fish, fresh from the sea! Maybe I could go and roam around the jungle, make some new friends. Fatten up a little, be a fierce cat. I just wish I could escape. Now I know I'm just a puny little cat but maybe the outdoors could toughen me up, make me stronger. Here is the real question: is it scary out there? I feel as though I'm willing to take that risk, put myself out there. There is still a small worry in the back of my head, that I might not make it. What if it doesn't workout the way I hope? What if I don't survive on my own?

I am an indoor cat. My life is relaxed and boring. My days are serene and my naps are quiet. I spend my days lounging, eating, getting my nails clipped, and most of all, longing to venture into the outside world. To roll in the green carpet, to  climb the tall trees and run and play and scratch and have fun. I want to drink from the cold cool stream, instead of drinking from the boring blue bowl. More than anything, I want to catch one of the gray fast squeaky “mice” that scamper through the green outdoor carpet at night. For now I will have to deal with the stick with a mouse on the end filled with catnip. BORING! I want to bring my humans a mouse for them to enjoy and learn how much better the outside is than the glowbox in the living room. I would like to lounge in the sun, and warm my entire body instead of over the dusty heater in the playroom.

For Dazai, no matter where he went or what he did, the suffering never went away. However, it did appear to lessen when he was with Chuuya. But think of what would happen if he wasn't there with him? Is he going to die, or will he still be alive? How long will it take Dazai to figure that out? Is he the only one who hasn't figured that out yet? 22 years old.

A competition, 100 contestants, crazy challenges, and only 1 winner. This was the kind of show everyone wanted to be on. I mean the show called “Something for Everyone” for a reason. Not to mention the money! Wow, you could retire then and there if you won that cheddar! The “Something for Everyone” show only just started their new season. Season 2! It’s crazy to think how popular it’s already become, I myself am an avid fan. What’s even crazier is that… I’m. On. The. Show. Me! And I’m doing good. I’ve already completed 34 of the 50 challenges. Each day there's a new challenge, sometimes harder sometimes easier. Challenges have their own styles to match everyone’s tastes in hobbies. The only problem with being on the show is losing, like anything you don’t want to lose. This is globally popular, everyone in the world plays, everyone in the world watches. It would be way too embarrassing to lose, that’s why I’ve been trying so hard.

And there I sit on the sticky leather couch, turning on the tv and trying to click to the news station. Frames of different shows flash by while trying to find the channel, depicting an odd arrangement of colors flashing throughout the room. I have never cared for the news, but anything to get my head off of the events that happened 2 weeks ago. But alas it's not so easy to repress something like that. She just left like that, even taking my daughter, what a woman. She left just because of how selfish she is, I can't believe I ever married her. Now I can't even see my daughter again. But what if they left because-

“No no no it’s not my fault, they’ll come back, I didn't do anything to them. They’re just ungrateful.”

I clutch my head and bent my torso forwards, having my elbows resting on my knees as I became more stiff and shaky.

They can't be gone, what did I even do, how did I deserve any of this.

And that was the moment when I knew it had all flown out of my reach. 

Ok, let's rewind to early in the morning today. 

I woke up, just like any other day, the air was hot and dry, well obviously because it was that weather, we lived in Burkina Faso. I went to go make some food. I stumbled into our small kitchen, if you even want to call it a kitchen. It was more of a tiny little table, but it was good enough for our family, we didn't need an electrifying kitchen, we just needed something that would work. 

My dad already left for work and my mom was out in the village getting water, and my brother, who is 7, is sleeping in the room we share. I didn’t wake him up because he had a butt load of chores yesterday and he’s completely exhausted. 

I got some bread and spread my mom's homemade jam across the bread. I make my brother a slice when he wakes up so he could have something good to wake up to.

 When I think of the holidays many Images dance through my head.   The first thing to come to mind is my advent calendar.    I picture the excitement as I count down the days until Christmas.   I see myself savoring the smooth and decorative chocolates.
 
  A few chocolates later the thought of decorating flows through my head.   We lug up all the totes, first the elves, then the lights, then the ornaments.  My family gathers in the living room sprinkling colorful trinkets everywhere.   I picture my sisters and I picking out the perfect spots to place the elves.   I Imagine my mom counting to make sure all 30 elves are up.  

It was out of my hands.

My world felt so much different today.

The sky was blank like an empty sheet of paper, the stars weren’t shining with their usual beautiful yellow glow, and the world felt lifeless and still like a paused movie yearning to be resumed. Everything was different.
  
But that’s what I wanted, right?

Nothing was in my control anymore, I had given everything I had for someone who didn’t want me.

I felt dead, I wish I was dead. I didn't want to be reminded of the biggest mistake I've ever made every single day of my god-forsaken life. 

How did I mess up so badly? 

Why could good things never stay? 

Why did bad stuff happen to me? What did I do to deserve this? 

Why did they all leave?

Why did I give them all away?

Each Christmas with my family is spectacular, but one Christmas when I was about 8 years old sticks out in particular. My parents woke me up at around 8:30 that cold, Christmas morning like they usually do. I laid in bed for a while that morning not wanting to leave the comfort of my bed. I was tucked into my blankets so much that I looked like a burrito. Once I finally worked up the courage to get up from my cozy, warm bed that begged me to stay, I walked downstairs to our living room. But, as I exited my room I found a Hot Wheels car sitting right outside my room. Of course, it was normal for Santa to put a car there each year. Except, I was 8, so everything was exciting to me. It was a Hot Wheels car that looked like the Batmobile because I did, and still do, love superheroes. I rushed down the carpeted stairs to show my parents what I had gotten as a present from St. Nick. I jumped for joy and practically shouted while I was telling them about my gift.