Myself

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic


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Submitted: October 03, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: October 03, 2017

A A A

A A A


Myself.


 

I sat in that room, shattered. The light of my computer as all that filled the room. My body laid still on that squeaky chair. My eyes fixed on that cursed blinking line on the white empty digital page. The time was 8:00 pm. My hands hovering, shaking over my intentions. I never once thought that I would ever write something like this. The soft humming of my fans echoed in the room. My spine felt like someone was moving a cold spoon up and down my back. My breaths were short and rapid. I limp my gaze over to the left to see the knife, the knife I was going to use to kill myself.

The feeling of spoons turned into a feeling of pure dread, like a dark figure stood above me, smiling. I looked back to the computer to see the blinking line again. I didn’t know what to write.

Who was I going to leave this note to?

 

My mother? With the pity in her eyes.

 

My Father? With the stern hand.

 

My brother? Who never understood.

 

They gave me words of encouragement after it happened but none of them seem to pierce my now black heart. All my efforts wasted to someone who chose the world over me. It was like the feeling of running to the goal of life and tripping right in front of the end thread. I flew so high in the sky like Icarus and my wings of love melted behind me. My heart was a battleground and the land had been scorch to heaven and earth. Nights were colder, and longer, especially darker. I had the feeling of breakups before not like this, I tried to go the distance this time. I thought I could achieve my dream of her, my other half. For one blissful year, my life felt free, like soaring through the air. Everyday was a chance to grow closer, I would come home from a hard day of study, or a long standing day of working in the shop, and she would be there to pick up the phone. Nothing beats this feeling, nothing.

 

This is the worst summer of my life. It was the turning point in July when I thought I was really at peace with what happened to me, I already shed my tears, my pillow was filled to the brim with screams, my smiles were faked. But like a growing sickness, my anger boiled underneath, like a black tar. It started in the shop, my favorite collection of music I once treasured to myself, filled me with rage. I shared my song and heart to her, to all of them. I have always been good natured in the part of myself. In the end I would never stalk, talk, or knock. I would never stalk as to see what she would be up to after it happened, I would never try to talk them back or go out of my way to communicate with them again, I would never go knock on their door, seeing them in person again.

 

I broke all these rules this time around.

The daily humiliation of seeing my once friendly phone full of checking notification, someone else out there outside of my family cared as to what was happening to me. Now my phone is a cold, silent, watcher. Days, without the communication of friends. Only to myself and my thoughts, there was so many questions that I had. What had I done to deserve this? Was I not good enough? Was I too caring?

 

I looked back at the time, it was 9:00 pm. I get up from my chair, a loud squeak interrupting my thoughts, I stumble from my earlier lack of movement. Moving around my clothes in the ground with my shuffling my feet, I reach over to the lamp to light up my room. An orange hugh pierces the darkness. Everything was clear to me as I stretched about. My white board full of encouraging words, empty meanings to me now. My cabinet of old games, seeing the ones I shared with her, boiling my insides once more. My bed with the sheets all tossed about, many lately sleepless nights. My fan above me, softly humming. The clean clothes worn once, outing with my brothers friends, I still felt alone even with them. My boots, overworn, thinking they would bring some form of long wanted adventure.

 

I look at all these things, and the final one, my mirror. “One last time” i said to myself. I look into it.

 

My eyes, lifeless, where they once shone bright

 

My smile, that once was there for real, now feeling like a cheap imitation

 

My beard, black and unruly, where stubble was once dominant.

 

Just as I thought, a lifeless husk. I’m not really here, my heart and soul is shattered, for such a big heart, I only held onto so little myself, because that is all that is left. I move over back to the computer, hearing the squeak to what i believe would be one last time. Staring at the screen on my computer, my eye lids heaving, I powered through the feeling. My fingers began to move about to formulate the only thought in my mind, the compilation of all the thoughts that rushed to me as a waterfall.

 

Sorry.

 

That is all I left, plain and simple, my eyes began to cloud up. It was time, my nostrils were losing the ability to breath, sniffing became louder than the soft humming of the fans. I look down at my hands, shaking, I knew what I was looking to do, end it. I was going to cut vertically, not diagonally. I want to end it, not look for attention or mindless pain. I stopped looking at my hands and switched my focus to the knife.

It wasn’t there anymore. My thoughts began to scurry, “where is it?”. I looked under my desk, not there. Under my chair, not there. I looked behind my desk, not there. This time speaking out loud “Where is it dammit?!”

 

A voice broke through my hasty actions, it stopped me cold. “Are you looking for this nonsense” said the voice behind me. I was frozen in place, the feeling of dread transformed into unadulterated terror. “Look at me when I’m talking to you young man.” said the voice now in a more demanding tone.  I began to turn my head slowly, I believed to be alone, I needed to know if I finally lost it. I saw a figure from the corner of my eye, a tall, fit figure wearing a hood. I now fully turned around to see if I really was seeing this. He raised his hand and pointed at me “You are about to make the dumbest thing any person could make”.

 

“It is my decision, and tired of feeling all of this sadness and anger everyday, to fake feeling happy. Please \with tears now streaming down my face\ please just let me do this.” i begged.

 

A smile pierced from his dark hood “No” he said. He then took the knife and jammed into the wall of my room. My sadness turning to the rage I was bottling up, looking for a reason to take it out on anyone who wasn't her.  “Why?!” I began to shout at the man.

 

“I never knew how much of an idiot you really are, you really thought she was the one. That girl, really?!” he began to shrug and chuckle.

 

I froze again from the words that came out of his mouth. And seeing the dumb smile again, that seemed real. My hands turned to fists and tried to take a swing at his face, he easily caught my hand with his black gloved hand. I tried to swing with my other fist with the same result. I was looked in a stalemate, I fell to my knees, sobbing once more. “What do you want from me?” I spoke with a voice that broke all about. He pushed my hands back at me, and they fell lifeless to my knees. I hear him shuffling, when i looked up he was with one knee, bowed to my level of sight, I still couldn’t see past his mouth. Something about his smile, looked so familiar to me.

 

“You are stronger than you believe, and you know deep down that this is true, you are so young, and have so much left of your spark of life. No one should be the reason of you snuffing all this potential out.” He said to me, I then felt his hand on my head, petting me.

 

“If you are not going to live for yourself, then life for her, no, not the one you think, she made her choice, now move on. I know it is not easy, but it is a necessity, live for her, the real her, the one who wants this from you” He lifted my chin up, and took off his glove on his right hand, showed my his hand. He was wearing a silver ring, with a white emerald stone.


 

“Now stand, stand with new fire under your heart, bide your time, focus on your dream, everything will work out with time, your road is not smooth but as long as you follow your heart cautiously you will see her, and she will choose you. You won’t believe how close you are to getting to her. “ I stood up with him, wiping my tears away, and looking back at him, his smile ever brighter. A bright circle of light began to form around him, I could see other figures behind him.

 

One had long hair and was wearing a dress, clasping its hands in hope, i assumed it to be a girl. I saw something shining in her hand, it was a ring.

 

Another figure appeared, a shorter one compared to the first two, it jumped around with its long hair and tugged on what i assumed was the mother's dress, she had the same smile as the man who was stepping through the portal. “Remember, bide your time, and chin up”

 

The woman spoke “I’m closer than you think” My eyes widened as i tried to reach out into the portal, but it faded away.

 

I woke up from sleeping on my desk, the knife was next to me, and my screen was empty. I don’t know what just happened but, I knew what I had to do. I closed my laptop, and picked up the knife. I opened my door, the hallway dark, the security panel lights were the only thing that lit the stairs. I began climbing down in the silence of the night, my footsteps sounding like the iconic scenes of Jurassic Park. I walk into the kitchen, turning on the light. I open the drawers of knives, and putting back the knife where it belongs.

 

I went upstairs, sleep called to me, my future continued tomorrow.


 

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