Goodbye and Good Riddance

Apparently a continuation of Candy Floss of Lullabies... Which I don't remember writing. Anyway, tis piece was written for a friend's blog back in '06 as a request so i think it's about time it made its way into my short stories archive.

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The light at the end of the tunnel, as I have heard people say, was bright and resilient. It held the feeling of hope and freedom contrary to the light in front of me which was dark and bleak. As I moved towards it I felt remorse and fear. I watched as my life flashed by me like a cliche in a bad movie.

This can't be happening to me! I thought as I was being sucked into the dark hole, I haven't done anything to deserve this!

I could hear my voice screaming at the top of my lungs but my mouth didn't move. I felt my spirit, my soul, weak and exhausted from the eternal struggle and I begin to let go. It was not a nice thing to do, this letting-go business, it points out how mindless a person can become just to get rid of pain and suffering. I wished for streangth. The light in front of me became too bright and I begin to disappear.

I hear screaming in the background of my eternity. Wait. Screaming? Am I in hell? And why does my leg feel like it's been pulled apart? Finally, when I finally open my eyes I'm greeted by the ground a few stories below me, staring at me in malice, beckoning me to come forward and land in solace. What a lie. A lie made for those weak minded individuals.

That is not what I am! I screamed to myself, I WILL NOT BE THAT PERSON! That child will not govern my life. The insignificant child. Nagging and nagging at me, telling me how pathetic I am, how pathetic my life is… never again.

A heave-ho came from the balcony I was hanging over and I was pulled back in. As I lay sprawled across the floor I realized how much I was in. My leg hurt, my back hurt and I have a headache. I hope I am strong enough at will to never go through that again. Life is tough but my will and heart is tougher. That would be my life's credo. As for that child that turns my heart weak and black, I killed her. I pushed her off the balcony and laughed at her as she fell into the ground never to be seen again.

*     *     *

Knee-jerk

The hairs on my back was standing on ends, I shivered. It wasn't the cold that was bothering me considering it was 33 degrees outside. The fan was turning its face and circulating the air inside my room. All was quiet except for the music blaring from my speakers. I stared at my screen as the numbness consumed my innermost thoughts.

My stomach growled but I ignored it. Maybe later I'll make something for myself and some tea.

Tea, lovely tea. One of the few things that kept me sane when my brain decides to pitch a tent and ignore everything. I had work to do. It was becoming a chore but I knew that I could finish it all within a span of an hour if I just didn't get distracted by the internet. The inside of my head keeps churning out information I didn't really need, or telling me things I needed to do or wanted to do or had to put into my diary, which in this instant was sprawled on my table. It was getting dark and I needed to get off my arse to turn on the light.

I'm hungry, I thought. Light, then food and tea.


Hmmm, tea. And wasabe covered peanuts.


I remembered that my hair had stood on ends just a moment ago and my mind slipped into wondering why. Who missed me? Who was muttering my name? What were they thinking that made me pop up in their mind? Ah, questions that could never be answered but I had asked anyway. The cogs in my head spin and meandered to the thoughts of someone.

Get out of my head, I have no time for you. The thought so violently jerked. I didn't think my reaction to his name would be so swift and cutting.

Rage

It was Monday. I sat glaring at him from across the room and I wasn't even sure why I was doing it. I could feel something about to happen. The tension was so thick you could've cut it with a knife and serve it to people. Tension cake. Ha.

Static was filling the air and if I wanted to, I could've made time stop. I was still glaring at him, my hands fidgeting with the pen. Click. Clack. Click. Clack... He turned around and gave me a brilliant smile and all I could think of was stabbing him with the BIC pen. Tumultuous rage stirring from wherever rage came from. The red clock on the wall kept going, I saw it just at the corner of my eye. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. I saw red. Brilliant hues of red, a mash up morbidity spilling from the depths of my cognitive function.

You know that thing that happens where the person you're staring at gets pulled into focus really quick? Like you dragged them with a pulley stuck to a chair with wheels? Something like that. He was my focus. I was burning, screaming inside and I still don't remember why.