Living is a nightmare, suicide's reality
Chapter 15
Pain exploded in the back of my head as it hit the concrete floor. I heard a crunch, like stepping on gravel. I was sure that wasn't good. Even in agony, i couldn't help laughing. I just fell down a big hill, broke something and hit my head. Also i'm imagining Frank screaming. Silly girl. Absoloutley crackers. I giggled and tried to lift my head. I cried out in pain as my neck refused to go that way. I opened my eyes, but all i could see was blue sky. It was rather pretty, now i think about it. I could lay here all day and look at the clouds moving by, the birds flying backwards and forwards. Hmmmm. Pretty.
I guess laying, immobolised, at the bottom of a hill gives you a sense of perspective. I suddenly thought how small i was compared to the millions of people in the world. I was like.... like a single thread in a carpet. Insignificant. Nobody needed me. So why was i still here?
I thought of going to sleep, permanantley. Just closing my eyes, and sleeping for eternity. With no dreams. My dreams usually revolved around dad. Him hitting Frank. Him hitting me. Frank's screams.....
Oh God, Frank. I shouldn't have shouted at him. Still he couldn't hear it. That only made it seem worse, though. He couldn't hear it. He couldn't touch, smell, feel, taste, or breathe ever again. He was dead. The one thing that was damn hard to come back from. Generally when your dead, your dead. I mean, there is no second chances. It's pretty final. Plus no one can hurt you when your dead. Maybe it was for the best that he was. He was at peace... at last.
I really, truly did love him. More than my mother. She was wonderful, but Frank was always better to me than her. It was like as i got older she began to see me for somebody else. Frank had never done that. He always saw me for who i was. Inside. That was what mattered.
Fuck, why was i thinking like this. This was way too deep for me. I had never contemplated my life this deep before. Sure i had done the usual 'my life is a whole load of crap'. That's about as deep as i got. Maybe it was the fact i was dying. They always saw your life flashes before your eyes, just as you're about to snuff it. Snuff. That's a funny word. It sounds like a name for a bunny, so why do people associate it with death? Another thing to think about. Maybe bunnies are meant to be a symbol of death, in a weird, twisted way. That seemed to fit. Well....
I couldn't move that much. I could move my legs slightly, and wave my arm in the air. but that was about as far as i got.
I wondered why nobody was coming down to help me. Maybe they got fed up and left me? No. Frank would never leave me.
Yes he would. He already has. Why was my mind so screwed? It refused to think straight. I groaned. Think straight! Right.
I took a deep breath, savouring the taste on my lips. What did air taste like? I could taste it, but it wasn't really there. It was invisible. Like me. You could walk into me, but you'd never see me. You dismissed it as part of your imagination.
'Who the hell am i talking to?' i said out loud. I really had no idea. Still i guess i was entitled to go a little loopy, i suppose. Death does weird things to your brain. Like making you see your brother, when he isn't actually there.
'Anna?' he whispered. Great i was hearing things too. He stroked my face softly, wiping away the tears. 'Pleaes, don't cry, baby,' he was crying himself.
Why was i torturing myself with his memory? God i was so sick.
'Anna, please, i love you so much. So much....' Tears rolled off his face. One fell and hit my cheek. It was warm.
Wait, i felt that?
'Frank?'
It was really him. He was alive.
I guess laying, immobolised, at the bottom of a hill gives you a sense of perspective. I suddenly thought how small i was compared to the millions of people in the world. I was like.... like a single thread in a carpet. Insignificant. Nobody needed me. So why was i still here?
I thought of going to sleep, permanantley. Just closing my eyes, and sleeping for eternity. With no dreams. My dreams usually revolved around dad. Him hitting Frank. Him hitting me. Frank's screams.....
Oh God, Frank. I shouldn't have shouted at him. Still he couldn't hear it. That only made it seem worse, though. He couldn't hear it. He couldn't touch, smell, feel, taste, or breathe ever again. He was dead. The one thing that was damn hard to come back from. Generally when your dead, your dead. I mean, there is no second chances. It's pretty final. Plus no one can hurt you when your dead. Maybe it was for the best that he was. He was at peace... at last.
I really, truly did love him. More than my mother. She was wonderful, but Frank was always better to me than her. It was like as i got older she began to see me for somebody else. Frank had never done that. He always saw me for who i was. Inside. That was what mattered.
Fuck, why was i thinking like this. This was way too deep for me. I had never contemplated my life this deep before. Sure i had done the usual 'my life is a whole load of crap'. That's about as deep as i got. Maybe it was the fact i was dying. They always saw your life flashes before your eyes, just as you're about to snuff it. Snuff. That's a funny word. It sounds like a name for a bunny, so why do people associate it with death? Another thing to think about. Maybe bunnies are meant to be a symbol of death, in a weird, twisted way. That seemed to fit. Well....
I couldn't move that much. I could move my legs slightly, and wave my arm in the air. but that was about as far as i got.
I wondered why nobody was coming down to help me. Maybe they got fed up and left me? No. Frank would never leave me.
Yes he would. He already has. Why was my mind so screwed? It refused to think straight. I groaned. Think straight! Right.
I took a deep breath, savouring the taste on my lips. What did air taste like? I could taste it, but it wasn't really there. It was invisible. Like me. You could walk into me, but you'd never see me. You dismissed it as part of your imagination.
'Who the hell am i talking to?' i said out loud. I really had no idea. Still i guess i was entitled to go a little loopy, i suppose. Death does weird things to your brain. Like making you see your brother, when he isn't actually there.
'Anna?' he whispered. Great i was hearing things too. He stroked my face softly, wiping away the tears. 'Pleaes, don't cry, baby,' he was crying himself.
Why was i torturing myself with his memory? God i was so sick.
'Anna, please, i love you so much. So much....' Tears rolled off his face. One fell and hit my cheek. It was warm.
Wait, i felt that?
'Frank?'
It was really him. He was alive.