I am now forced to lie awake, alone and scared, too afraid to sleep, while horrific images intrude my mind, disturbing what little sanity I have left. I feel that I am losing my mind; I am losing control over my body, my thoughts and actions. When I look at my hands, I do not see the once soft, white skin of a noble woman, but the blood-stained hands of a cold blooded killer. I do not know how long I can carry on. Sooner or later I feel that I will snap. Like a rope stretched so tight, its frayed and withered thread cannot bear the stress any longer. My body, seemingly fine, will soon resemble my broken and corrupted mind, as I lie, motionless, on the remorseless earth below. Finally I will find the peace that has escaped me, finally I will not be confined within a mind that has long surrendered all logic, reason and clarity, and will finally be free.
He sat pondering with stinging eyes outside in the frosty evening air. His head was throbbing with a migraine that carried his thoughts to darker times, times that made his heart burn. Times that now caused his lungs to only inhale, that suffocating feeling the feeling of deaths unbearable hug, the engulfment of pain. He had felt it many times before. The anxiety and stomach nausea was almost always with him though only he knew of it. This boy was fluid in the language of pain. For he had the scars the screams and the sorrow to prove it. Currently his lungs began to fail him only allowing an inhale of agony, no oxygen would be permitted to exit, because the panic would not allow it. His eyes begin to blur like they sometimes would and
There was no end, I was breathless, but didn't feel the need to gulp and struggle for air. My eyes were open, I know they're open, but all I could focus on was black darkness, and more black.
Desperately, fighting to stay occupied; so thoughts of is it really ok for me to go back, stay buried inside. Although, briefly successful, it’s not long till every emotion that’s been blocked rushes over your body. Until you feel chilly and its ninety eight degrees at the moment. Simultaneously, rubbing your palms on the front of your freshly dry cleaned pants; since they won’t stop sweating. Wondering, who will be there when I finally walk through those doors? Does anyone care enough to even show up? Every moment of excitement feeling like a kid on Christmas morning, is followed by the sensation of someone just kicked my dog. The closer it becomes to arriving at that final stop, the stronger the pressure builds up around the heart. Producing the horrific sensation of something squeezing it just enough to
The others sitting around were making small talks. Each of them appeared calm, yet I could feel they were tense. The slightly exaggerated titters, and uncertainty in their eyes gave them away. I suppose it was the same with me, only that I hid my agitation with reticence. Shortly, my consciousness faded and I delved deep into my mind, looking back at the back days, months, and years, looking for any hints or events that may have led me here. I realized soon there was not a single coherent or convincing explanation for this. Everything was as if I was guided by a greater force than life itself, a force more primal and more ancient than reason or human aptitude. All of a sudden, it seemed so awry. So
My mind was going one thousand miles per hour, those words haunting my head. Hot tears flowed down my face as the words sunk in. I slumped in my seat feeling exhausted and too cold for this warm house. My father’s arms reached for me, trying to comfort me. He wouldn’t understand the mental loss that was turning into physical pain. My chest heaved for air, trying to get this drowning feeling out of these thoughts that envelope me bringing a soft cloak of anxiety. “Not again, please.”
I crippled down into a pit of confusion and sadness. Although this happened often, it always seemed to hit home hard as the months progressed. I arrived home and tossed myself into the soft comfort of my bed. Curled up into a ball, I tightened and released my grip on my white covers repeatedly, my body slowly dozing in and out of slumber as I watched small ripples in the outdoor pool shine upon my bedroom wall, the moonlight brightening it. Slowly the whispers began developing, and I allowed them. I needed to listen, they crowded my mind and maybe they were all right. So, there I sat in the silence. Jabbled words filled the room, they seemed to be everywhere. Woman, children, and men. I tensed at the words, trying to make out what they were telling me. In the background faint noises played, either from past songs the band and I had developed or ones that just kept coming. Threats or sarcastic remarks, occasional words remembered from my parents or enemies. They kept coming, intensifying by the second, getting louder and louder, until the point where... I snapped. I sat up and screamed into the darkness, pulling at my hair and kicking my feet, as if I were having some kind of a toddler tantrum. My breath quickened and my nose wrinkled, like how it always did when I got worked up. Slowly, and then all at once they stopped. My mind gathered in the silence, and I slammed back down into the pillow, turning my head into it, screaming once more until
I lolled around still thinking about the decision I had made. The vicissitudes were just piling up, on after another. The only things I heard were buildings crumble, guns being fired, and bombs dropping. I missed the sound of my car starting, I missed the sound of the music playing, but most of all, I missed the sound of my children laughing and playing. The kind of chastisement I was living through was just unbearable and I was ready to leave. No one was stabbing me, no one was shooting me, just thinking about what I have lost is the most painful thing. I heard gunshots getting closer. I needed to leave.
You awake with a breeze twirling with the fragments of hair left on your scalp; a dance known only to friends of the oncoming light. You open your eyes only to see the endless ocean in the sky. You do not see your family, nor your friends. You demand your legs and arms to function, they do not. You beg them to work the one time you need them to, and in defiance to the groan of your bones, you stand. You begin to wonder if this is a dream, a nightmare. It’s not real. I will see them when I wake up. They are fine. It’s not real. The earth rises and in its presence is the rubble of your home, your brother’s home, and your neighbor’s home, scattered and utterly destroyed. With a horrible realization, you start screaming for the arms of your children and wife to wrap around you once again. You can’t hear yourself scream. You can’t hear anything except the deafening silence. You drop to our knees while your eyes are drowned in a river of sorrow. Then, you feel the small hands of your children grasp yours with surprising fierceness. Though your wife is nowhere to be seen in the mist of dust, you have never been so relieved to bask in the mist of ruins and death.
It was a weekday in September when I came home from school, said goodbye to my family and didn’t come back for two weeks, but that was the first time, in all I was gone for a month and a half. Abington Memorial Hospital was welcoming, but it didn’t matter how distracted I was, I couldn’t escape myself. “Life begins where fear ends”, but it was a different story for me, when the fear of myself stopped, that would be because I would’ve done what I was terrified of and what I wanted the most, to let the rain
My brother kept on crying as I pulled him closer into my arms, listening to the sirens blasting the in distance. As the ambulance pulled up, I couldn’t move. My body was frozen holding my brother watching the paramedics pull my mom from the car. I tried to call out for her, but nothing came out. They worked quickly strapping her to a gurney and whisking her off into the distance. Through the fog, I watched the ambulance until I could no longer see the lights. It was then realized that my mother was gone, and we were all alone. As a policeman approached us he got down on one knee to be face to face with me.
When I arrived home, nobody was there. The street was still as a statue. I was too scared to even think about what could’ve happened to my parents. I hid in the basement for four and a half hours while I prayed my family was still alive. Sitting there waiting seemed like it lasted an eternity. I was curious what was going on. I walked upstairs only to see the house completely ransacked. I heard nothing though I knew they had been here, but they didn’t find me. I had been able to survive the invasion but my family and the rest of my friends are gone and I am alone.
I began to feel unbearably tired, utterly exhausted. I knew that this was the end. I know that soon all of my pain will be gone. I would no longer be stick under this knot of tubes and wires that are hooked up to machines to keep me alive. Soon all of my pain will be gone. I’ll be free from the past that haunts my every waking moment.
As my car climbed the hill, my heart sunk into my stomach. I parked as far away from my friends as I could and quickly exited the car, not once looking at them. Now it was every man for himself. Emerging into the open air, I suddenly became aware of myself. I could feel my puffy, blood-shot eyes. My palms became slimy. My fingers clinched into a fist and my nails dug into my skin. My sight blurred and my tunnel of vision tried to focus on the front door. Every step seemed more awkward than the last. Eyes pierced me from all sides. I felt naked. My body trembled like a sheep in the midst of wolves.