Guess what happens when university gives you holidays to study for finals?
You read and you read and occasionally write as well! :P
Anyway, I wrote a short story last night which I would like to share with you all...
He sat there on the cliff's edge by the sea with a shard of glass in his hand, breathing in the last of a very long and eventful day. The darkness had started to color the sky and his tortured soul alike. Five months, two weeks, four days. To his friends and family, these were just a couple of months. To him and his body, they were a lifetime. He had found meaning, a reason to believe in, a reason to wake up in the morning not feeling like an utter waste of space. He had found in her the reason to live and not just exist. Her smile was his smile; her happiness was his happiness. However, her breaths were numbered and he knew that.
People around him loved perfection and he was just that, an epitome of perfection. Perfect hair, perfect looks, perfect house, perfect family and perfect set of friends but not so perfect arm. Everyone that knew him, they were all envious of the enigma that he was but no one could ever really get past that image of his. Only she did because she knew that her arm was identical to his; decorated with beauty, an angry reminder of their past deeds. They had made a pact to stop not for anyone but for each other's sake. After all perfection marred by scars is anything but perfect. They were clean.
Today, after five months, two weeks and four days of remaining clean, the reason to stay that way had been killed in the most peaceful manner possible. Every time he closed his eyes, her beautiful smile was all he saw. He wouldn't let his last image of her cloud the vision that she was. She had altered him, leaving her unique fingerprints all over his soul.
He had been dreading this day for months, contemplating all the possible scenarios. She had always been there for him, whispering words of wisdom, trying to give him the strength to face the harsh reality of life, no matter how hard he tried to fight the truth... Her days were numbered. Today, he had let the one thing that brought him joy die because that is what she wanted. Because that is what her last wish was. He loved her so much that he would've killed for her, he would've died for her but she wanted to die... How could he deny that? She wanted to die at his hands and she did. He had made it as painless as possible; he had used a pillow and couple of sleeping pills.
It was a selfless act with the purest of desire to see his mother leave the world with dignity before Alzheimer's could destroy all that she was. He was the perfect son of a perfect mother with imperfect habits.
He just sat at the cliff's edge playing with the shard of glass, a murderer. He had promised his mother that he would never follow in her example but guess he was a liar and a hypocrite as well. He was a murderer, a hypocrite, a liar, he was starting to hate himself more with every passing second. What kind of a son was he? What kind of a brother was he? What kind of person was he? Was he a person at all? He was a monster. He had to punish himself. He needed to punish himself.
He looked at the shard of glass, a piece of his mother's mirror. She was dead, she wouldn't notice the broken mirror. Again, which was his fault. It was always his fault. He had to punish himself. The only way he could punish himself would violate his promise to his beloved mother. At that moment, his hatred for himself consumed him so much that he couldn't think clearly much less look beyond that shard of glass.
He had already done so much harm what's a few more cuts could do?
_______________________________________________________
Hope you liked it ^_^
Also, if you are a self-harmer, know that you need to stop not because people are out there and they love you, no, but because you owe it to yourself not to do it.
You read and you read and occasionally write as well! :P
Anyway, I wrote a short story last night which I would like to share with you all...
'A Desirable Agony'
He sat there on the cliff's edge by the sea with a shard of glass in his hand, breathing in the last of a very long and eventful day. The darkness had started to color the sky and his tortured soul alike. Five months, two weeks, four days. To his friends and family, these were just a couple of months. To him and his body, they were a lifetime. He had found meaning, a reason to believe in, a reason to wake up in the morning not feeling like an utter waste of space. He had found in her the reason to live and not just exist. Her smile was his smile; her happiness was his happiness. However, her breaths were numbered and he knew that.
People around him loved perfection and he was just that, an epitome of perfection. Perfect hair, perfect looks, perfect house, perfect family and perfect set of friends but not so perfect arm. Everyone that knew him, they were all envious of the enigma that he was but no one could ever really get past that image of his. Only she did because she knew that her arm was identical to his; decorated with beauty, an angry reminder of their past deeds. They had made a pact to stop not for anyone but for each other's sake. After all perfection marred by scars is anything but perfect. They were clean.
Today, after five months, two weeks and four days of remaining clean, the reason to stay that way had been killed in the most peaceful manner possible. Every time he closed his eyes, her beautiful smile was all he saw. He wouldn't let his last image of her cloud the vision that she was. She had altered him, leaving her unique fingerprints all over his soul.
He had been dreading this day for months, contemplating all the possible scenarios. She had always been there for him, whispering words of wisdom, trying to give him the strength to face the harsh reality of life, no matter how hard he tried to fight the truth... Her days were numbered. Today, he had let the one thing that brought him joy die because that is what she wanted. Because that is what her last wish was. He loved her so much that he would've killed for her, he would've died for her but she wanted to die... How could he deny that? She wanted to die at his hands and she did. He had made it as painless as possible; he had used a pillow and couple of sleeping pills.
It was a selfless act with the purest of desire to see his mother leave the world with dignity before Alzheimer's could destroy all that she was. He was the perfect son of a perfect mother with imperfect habits.
He just sat at the cliff's edge playing with the shard of glass, a murderer. He had promised his mother that he would never follow in her example but guess he was a liar and a hypocrite as well. He was a murderer, a hypocrite, a liar, he was starting to hate himself more with every passing second. What kind of a son was he? What kind of a brother was he? What kind of person was he? Was he a person at all? He was a monster. He had to punish himself. He needed to punish himself.
He looked at the shard of glass, a piece of his mother's mirror. She was dead, she wouldn't notice the broken mirror. Again, which was his fault. It was always his fault. He had to punish himself. The only way he could punish himself would violate his promise to his beloved mother. At that moment, his hatred for himself consumed him so much that he couldn't think clearly much less look beyond that shard of glass.
He had already done so much harm what's a few more cuts could do?
_______________________________________________________
Hope you liked it ^_^
Also, if you are a self-harmer, know that you need to stop not because people are out there and they love you, no, but because you owe it to yourself not to do it.
