Keith was laying in bed, staring up at his dull ceiling when his phone pinged from its place on his bedside table. The screen lit the room up, eliciting Keith to check the message.

U: I'm a lost cause
I'm a disgrace
I'm cold and I'm tired
I've got bags on my face 

I'm a rebel
A man fighting a war
I hold a knife to my chest
Whilst they beg me for more 

Their screams are a lullaby
But I only close one eye
I have to stay alert
So I'm the only one to die

Nightmares disguised as dreams 
My friend may be an enemy
I can't trust the world
And the world can't trust me

U: Lol it's 3am

Keith frowned as his eyes grazed the words on the screen. His heart hurt for the unknown number, despite still not knowing their name. The poem was filled with so much pain that Keith would never wish upon anyone.

K: I can read the time you idiot

U: Sorry

K: That's a nice poem by the way

K: May I ask what you mean by "I hold a knife to my chest whilst they beg me for more" 

U: Idk just like

U: People love my misery

U: It feels like popular people only like me when I'm perfect. Being perfect takes its toll on me because I have to pretend all the time

U: So that pretending is the knife and the popular people are begging me to keep pretending

U: It's stupid but yeah

K: Oh

K: That makes sense. It's quite a beautiful metaphor

U: I'm not sure I want to be popular 

Keith tightened his grip on his phone. He had always wondered what it would be like to be popular, always ending up with at least he would have someone to talk to. Being lonely only fuelled the anxiety he felt so he wished and wished he had friends.

K: Try being a loner for one second and you'll change your mind

U: I'm not sure I would

U: You don't have to pretend you're someone you're not

K: Yeah but I also have no one to talk to

K: Look, I know you feel miserable or whatever but at least you have people. Loneliness is the worst feeling in the world

Loneliness kept Keith awake all night. Loneliness meant he had to hide his silent tears. Loneliness made Keith question who would notice if he disappeared.

U: I've been diagnosed with anxiety and depression

K: I'm sorry

U: It's okay

U: I think it's just hard to see what problems people are hiding. They can seem perfect but be falling apart underneath 

K: I guess

U: Life sucks 

K: I know

U: I don't want to pretend anymore. I want to tell my friends I'm bisexual

K: What stopped you from telling them before?

U: I'm pretty sure they're homophobic

K: Then why hang out with them?

U: Because I'm a massive extrovert who needs friends

K: But are they really your friends if they're against your sexuality?

It must have hit too close to home because the unknown number didn't respond that night.

Keith didn't fall asleep. Instead, his thoughts swirled around in his head. Around and around. Around and around. Part of him was starting to like the unknown number (that was apparent in the butterflies in his stomach triggered by every notification) and the other part was sick of the prank.