Not Existing

He believed in something. Something about a dream that didn’t come true…a terrible nightmare. believe in something. He didn’t believe in himself. But he did believe the lies he was told. He believed he was someone else. They were so strong that he made others believe too…believe in that someone else. the only way he could tell who he really was, was to look in the mirror. And even that soon ceased to show him the truth.

Something about notes written in his own blood, addressed to his own soul. But he could never read it with his own eyes. You see, they were no longer in his possession. And his obsession, knew no bounds or limits. This was no gimmick, no cry for help among the living. And when they found him, he had expended all the life that he was given.