A Rock

 I know I was wrong. I do. I was confused. It's not an excuse though. I know that much at least. I've hurt two people. Maybe more. Definitely more. My words keep sinking into the pit of my stomach. Fading in acid. Floating around with the cornflakes and milk. Disintegrating. I can't really feel my mouth or jaw anymore. My tongue is a useless piece of flesh just sitting in my mouth like a fat, pink, dead worm. I can hear him crying. Not sobbing or anything, just that breathing that people do when they are crying. They breathe with their mouths open and it's heavy but they're trying to be quiet. I don't know what to say to him. Or anybody. I don't want to be morbid or anything so I won't. I don't feel sick. I don't feel anything actually.

 My pet rat's gone missing. I think my mum did it on purpose. She hates rats. I don't care though. I should. But I can't. I can't care and I can't make myself care. I feel like I'm being frozen from the inside out. I always knew I was apathetic and cold, but I never knew it was this bad. The only thing that could make me warm again is him. That sounded lame. Cliche.

 I wonder if I could turn to stone if I sat still enough. That would be nice. It would start in my stomach. Slowly becoming grey and still. It would spread through all of my organs until all of my insides were stone. Then it would spread over my skin. Hard and heavy. And I would just become a rock. A person-shaped rock. Nothing else.