Its a funny thing, lying on the floor with your life slowly draining from your veins. Its not funny, its terrifying and, in that moment where you embrace death, you realize how much you want to be alive. You almost pray for a miracle, someone to walk in and save you, but this is the culmination of what you wanted, right? Isn't this the out that you've been desperate for since you first saw his face twisted with anger and disillusionment?
I feel like I'm standing outside of my body, like I'm trapped in the mirror watching it all with terrifying clarity. What a mess I've made of everything. At the same moment that I'm drifting out, I'm pushing back in, trying to fix this. Its not too late, it can't be. My mother said there was always a light to carry you home if you were lost. I'm so lost right now. I want this sweet agony and I want to live. I want to live more than I've ever wanted it before.
I'm screaming. Not physically, but outside of my body I am screaming and pounding against the glass of the mirror. This isn't fair! It isn't right! I'm supposed to live a long and happy life! What have I done?
What have I done?
I sit down next to myself and watch my eyes dim.
"Don't go yet, buddy. Hang on, please! Please, don't go yet. We have to make it until Mom gets home. Please."
Its useless to plead, but I can't help it. I look back up at the mirror, fractured from where I smashed it with my fists. I have bits of glass embedded in my hands and a large piece clutched in my loosening grip.
The memories come rushing in, flooding out the bloody scene before me. And I guess there is nothing to do but to reminisce in my final moments. I stand up and follow a white rabbit, of sorts, to the tunnel of my memories. His smile. His lips pressed to mine as we stood under the changing poplar trees. His eyes when he told me that he loved me. His hand in mine.
I glance back at myself, hearing the sound of my sluggish heart as it struggles to save me. He had called me a brave heart, once. I suppose I still have a brave heart, it keeps trying, staggering on even though the rest of me is already limp with defeat. Sunshine beckons me back toward the memories and I don't look back again.
I feel like I'm standing outside of my body, like I'm trapped in the mirror watching it all with terrifying clarity. What a mess I've made of everything. At the same moment that I'm drifting out, I'm pushing back in, trying to fix this. Its not too late, it can't be. My mother said there was always a light to carry you home if you were lost. I'm so lost right now. I want this sweet agony and I want to live. I want to live more than I've ever wanted it before.
I'm screaming. Not physically, but outside of my body I am screaming and pounding against the glass of the mirror. This isn't fair! It isn't right! I'm supposed to live a long and happy life! What have I done?
What have I done?
I sit down next to myself and watch my eyes dim.
"Don't go yet, buddy. Hang on, please! Please, don't go yet. We have to make it until Mom gets home. Please."
Its useless to plead, but I can't help it. I look back up at the mirror, fractured from where I smashed it with my fists. I have bits of glass embedded in my hands and a large piece clutched in my loosening grip.
The memories come rushing in, flooding out the bloody scene before me. And I guess there is nothing to do but to reminisce in my final moments. I stand up and follow a white rabbit, of sorts, to the tunnel of my memories. His smile. His lips pressed to mine as we stood under the changing poplar trees. His eyes when he told me that he loved me. His hand in mine.
I glance back at myself, hearing the sound of my sluggish heart as it struggles to save me. He had called me a brave heart, once. I suppose I still have a brave heart, it keeps trying, staggering on even though the rest of me is already limp with defeat. Sunshine beckons me back toward the memories and I don't look back again.
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