Why Am I Here?
Why Am I Here? shortstory stories

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In which the narrator attempts to find the answer to the title. | (The prequel of "Don't Let Me Fall In Love With You")

Why Am I Here?


I read the description. I don’t remember how I found it. The internet can take you anywhere if you lose control for a moment. But I remember reading the description.

It told me the narrator will fall in love with me. I don’t know why I wanted the character to fall in love with me. Maybe I was lonely. But then again, everyone is.

How different would it have been if it were an actual person whom I knew will fall in love with me and I will never return their feelings? In that situation, would anyone have done it?

But the story had a couple of views so I guess people decided they would have. And I did so too.

I don’t know how I can possibly explain myself. They were mere words. And yet, I fell for them.

I want to spare you the details. This isn’t a love story. The last thing it will be is a love story. But they were only words. I might as well have fallen for the author instead.

Or just the words themselves. I still don’t understand how such words stirred me. Was it out of pity? Compassion? Maybe I didn’t fall for the narrator.

If only I knew it before.

They told me that I can be with them. And they with me. I kept telling myself that it was only a story. But I didn’t want it to be.And yet I still kept clicking. It was a story after all.

What was different, however, was that I kept coming back.

I was obsessed. I was pathetic. I was desperate. It was the same words but they were new every time I read them.

I wanted to find a way to see them. To meet them. To be with them. Who knows what I meant. Realistically? Figuratively? Any-ly?

Like I said, I was desperate.

I don’t remember how I found the way. I just knew it was there when it presented itself. I went back to the story. And I imagined the narrator broke off from its conversation.

The narrator told me we will finally be together.

And then I woke up. I woke up in a room. It was a vast land of white and emptiness. I walked for what felt like forever. I couldn’t feel hunger nor thirst nor exhaustion.

And the entire time I kept thinking: Where are they? Why aren’t they here? Why am I here? And the answer presented itself. Betrayal.

There was so much screaming within me. I screamed for such a long time.

I lost my voice. I lost my will. I lost myself. There was nothing. I was nothing.

From the distance, I saw, for the first time, a different color. I ran towards it like it was the light. Maybe I was dead. I hoped I was dead. Instead, it was a black screen. Close enough.

It was the size of a portrait to fit me. It just hung there in midair. It was just there.

I saw down on the floor and stared at the screen. And I just waited. Until I saw a silhouette appear in it. I couldn’t tell anything from the figure.

I couldn’t tell the sex, the age, the name- Certainly not the name but I think humor was the one thing I had left it this place. But I knew it was someone.

I screamed with a voice I thought I no longer had. I hit the screen with my fists until I was able to see another color in this empty world. The figure looked shaken and suddenly vanished.

I cried for such a long time. But time no longer seemed to exist here anymore. When another person came, I did the exact same thing. And they vanished once more.

Maybe they were doing this on purpose. Was I like an animal in a zoo? Displayed for their entertainment?

After that, whenever a silhouette appeared I cursed them out. They vanished quicker than the last.

The rage in me was slowly running out. It was the only thing keeping me going. I slammed my head against the screen.

Scaring the silhouettes with each pound. Watching a pool of red form on my feet. But I couldn’t feel a step closer to death.

My hands crept up my neck and began tightening its grip. My vision became blurry, my arms shook. But at the moment I could draw my final breath, my hands failed me and released their grip.

And I was left gasping for air once more.

Whenever a silhouette appeared, I said nothing. I didn't want to say because I was too tired to scream. I was so angry at these people behind the screen. I was so jealous.

I was trapped here and they cared nothing but themselves. I was nothing but their entertainment. I was so alone and no one will care. I cried for a long time about that.

A silhouette formed on the screen. I stared at the person and I said softly, “I know you read the description.” There was a long pause before I heard a quiet click.

I looked at the silhouette and it remained. I realized they were my only source of company. Their presence was the only thing I have left. I racked through my mind how the conversation went.

I've read it so many times.

“And you expect-” And they suddenly vanished. My fist slammed against the screen. I took too long. I need to try again.

Every time I spoke, I received a click in response. They couldn't speak, they could only listen. I just wanted anyone to listen.

I didn't say how I got here. I don't know why. I just couldn't. Maybe it was out of the shame. I just knew that I was here. And that they were there. And I wanted them to stay there.

Silhouette after silhouette, they all blurred together. Sometimes they suddenly leave when I messed up. Sometimes they stayed until I had nothing else to say.

I'll do anything to make them stay.

But I knew that the story always had to end. They couldn't stay here forever. They couldn't stay here with me.

Slowly I looked forward to every meeting, any meeting. My heart confused it with love. But at that point, I didn’t care. Anything to fill this void within me.

Suddenly a silhouette appeared. But it gave off a different aura. I couldn't explain it. I began, “I know you read the description” (That's because I created it.)

I froze. It was a voice in my head that said it. But I knew that it was from that silhouette.

“A-Are you the Author?” (I am.) “Why are you here?” (Observing.) “Me?” (Who else?)

“Why did you put me here?” I screamed. (I didn't put you here. You did.) “Why am I here?” (Because you fell in love.)

I punched the screen. “Get me out of here!” (I can't. But you can.) “How?” (You know how.)

“I'll never do that.” (Why not?) “It's wrong.” (But the one before you did that.) “Well. I don't blame them. They must have been so lonely here.”

(And you're defending them?) “No I… I don't know.”

“How come you can reply back?” (Because I made this and I made you.) “No you didn't. I was brought here.” (If that's what you want to believe.)

“What is my purpose here?” (To follow the description.) “But then I have to…” (Fall in love over and over again.) “Is this my punishment?” (Only if you believe it is.) Then they vanished.

And here I stay. Repeating the same conversation over and over again. I still try to find the answer to the title. I don’t believe that it was only because of the stupidity of my heart.

It may be something more. I want to believe it was something more. Until then, I’ll reflect myself while I’m here.

I fall in love with each silhouette, each one of them. I genuinely fall in love. Maybe by their mere presence or mere hope. Like I did with mere words.

The conversation became standard. I begin knowing that I will be heartbroken. But hope arises and I fall in love once more.

It really isn’t right to trap someone here alone. And maybe my purpose is to carry this burden created by that Author.

If ever I can see that narrator again, I only want to see if they will fulfill their promise.

I tell the silhouettes now that I can be free, but only if they take my place. A part of me hopes that if they loved me in return, they'll do it.

I'm still waiting.

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