April 10th, 3240

Depression, in its truest form, is never loud. It is silent. Poisonous. Deadly. Much like carbon monoxide.

“No one saw it coming”, your friends will say. That’s because you were too depressed to tell them.

“I don’t understand,” your mother will cry. That’s because she’s never lived it.

“He was being selfish. Look at all the people he hurt,” a stranger will scream. 

That stranger is right. But who am I to correct them? Their opinions won’t matter when I’m dead.

But surely I’m not depressed. Like I said, in its truest form, it is silent. Unspoken. So, isn’t this entire thing you’re reading a contradiction? Why do I write to you, dearest reader, before I kill myself? If nothing matters after I die, that includes you…right? What sense does this make? What sense does anything make?

No matter. 

Nothing matters. You included, reader. Hate me all you want, just spare me your life philosophy on meaning and purpose and all that blubbery. 

I used to have those things. But no longer. 

And that’s why I’m going to kill myself. 

April 11th, 3240

          I killed myself yesterday. Again. For the 230,567th time. I decided to go with a hanging this time, because I’d always wondered what it would feel like.

          Here’s a shock. It didn’t feel good.

          But I woke up again this morning, in this ungodly Jungle. Ah, but, then again, nothing can be ungodly if god doesn’t exist in the first place.

          What god would kill a fifteen-year-old boy 230,567 times?

April 12th, 3240

Make that 230,568.

I jumped off a tree to kill myself yesterday. I’ve found it to be the most painless option thus far. 

The hardest part is climbing these giant trees. The fall is easy. Fun, even. For a few seconds, I feel like I’m flying. For a few seconds, life is wonderful.

But then the Jungle brings me back.

June 22nd, 3240

          I haven’t written in a few months. My apologies, reader. (Remember, though, you don’t matter.)

          I decided to kill myself, quickly, these last many of times. I jumped off a tree backwards, forwards, sideways, and so forth.

          But one day I jumped off a tree naked. It was freeing, in an odd way. Freeing, because I wasn’t embarrassed. And why should I have been?

          I’m depressed. Their opinions don’t matter. So why do I wear clothes when the they watch me kill myself every day?

          Oh, I didn’t mention them yet, did I?

June 23rd, 3240

          They’re always watching me. The Watchers. They watch. And watch. And watch.

Always a different group of them. Usually fifty. Enough to fill out the seats.

          Ugh. Those damned seats.

          I’m boring myself again. Going to jump off a tree.

September 15th, 3240

          You know why those seats bother me? Because they remind me of the outside. Before I went on this god-forsaken vacation into the Jungle.

          Damnit. There I go using the ‘god’ word again.

          Over 600 years and I still can’t get that out of my vocabulary, can I?

January 5th, 3390

          It’s been a while. I’ve done some thinking. Nothing has changed. The days are endless. Nothing matters.

March 13th, 3574

          When I entered this Jungle, there was a group of vacationers with me.  One of their names was Rosemary.

          I hate Rosemary.

Date…Unknown?

          That was stupid of me. Why did I keep track of time? Time doesn’t matter. Not here.

          Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Another Day

          An odd thing happened to me yesterday. One of the Watchers entered the Jungle. He then took a sword, and stabbed me through the chest. I heard the Watchers cheer for the first time.

Another

          I lied. I love Rosemary. I just hate that the Watchers made me kill her. And everyone else too. I had no choice.

          They gave me no choice.

          Unlike me, Rosemary died for good. So did the rest of them.

          I consider that a blessing.

Another

          It’s important to distinguish the sun doesn’t watch over me. It’s only the Watchers.

          When Rosemary, me, and the rest of the no-names entered this Jungle, the ancient temple enveloped us. All of us. And it stretched past the trees, underneath the ground, in every direction.

          And now the Watchers look through glass panels from above.

          Like I said. There is no sun.

          Only the Watchers.

June 18th, 4037

          I lied again. I was keeping track of time.

          No matter how many times I write it, say it, or scream it to the Watchers above, I still care enough to keep track of the time.

          But, why? Why keep track of time when time doesn’t matter? It shouldn’t matter to me. Not here.

          Ah. A Watcher is entering the Jungle to kill me. They do this quite often now.

June 20th, 4037

          Rosemary gave me this notebook and pen. Before I killed her.

          The Watcher let me keep it for some reason. I think they read this between my deaths.

          Why?

June 25th, 4037

          I cried.

          I cried!

          Do you UNDERSTAND?

          I cried!

          I felt something. I cried yesterday. Tears rolled down my face. I FELT something.

          Why did I cry? I’ll tell you right after this Watcher kills m………

June 26th, 4037

          I couldn’t remember the name of my mother. That’s why I cried. I couldn’t remember her face, either. Not her voice, not her touch, not one string of memory. Nor my father. Or a friend. Or even those vacationers I went to this Jungle with.

          Except Rosemary. I remember her.

June 27th , 4037

          Do I feel…guilty? For a crime I was forced to do? Why? Nothing matters. Remember? 

You don’t matter.

June 28th, 4037

          I was forced to kill her. I had to. The Watchers told me to. The Watchers told me to.

          The Watchers TOLD ME TO!

June 29th, 4037

          The Watchers are gone. Why are they gone?

          WHERE ARE THE WATCHERS?

          GOD-I mean…UGH.

June 30th, 4037

          SHE DOESN’T MATTER. I HAD TO KILL HER. I HAD TO KILL HER. SHE WAS GOING TO TELL EVERYBODY.

          JUST STOP! MAKE IT STOP!

July 1, 4037

          I TOLD MYSELF TO. I DID IT. THE WATCHERS DIDN’T. I’M SORRY. I’M SORRY. I’M SORRY ROSEMARY!

July 2, 4037

          I’m sorry.