Status: Sort of active.
Footprints in the Sand
Part Two.
Despair- (n) 1. Loss of hope, hopelessness 2. Someone or something that causes hopelessness (v) to lose, give up, or be without hope.
The windows of what was once my beautiful home have all blackened with the night. Violet and Ben went to sleep in my mother’s room, but she’s awake, in the blue silk robe I bought her for her birthday, sitting on my bed, her silence to loud. I had to leave, because I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t look at the tears anymore, couldn’t see the self hatred and regret brimming in their eyes. My brother said he should’ve been here earlier, my sister wishes she could’ve told me that she loved me, and my mother…she blames it all on herself. Weren’t her words the ones that made me leave in the first place?
I blame the human race. I blame the world. I blame the unfair game people tend to call life.
It was all swallowing me.
I was tossed off the roof of a tall building, left to spiral through the air. Knowing I was dead but still seeing the world below me, still tortured with the image of what I couldn’t have anymore.
The sky is a dark vicious indigo, casting empty shadows below the enormous tree I stood under in our front yard. I hated the dark, hated the shadows. I was always afraid of the monsters and ghosts lurking in them. Afraid of the unknown…my father used to say I didn’t have much of an imagination, that surprises and blind acceptance were the best gift given to us from the gods. My father, I wonder what will happen when he finds out. Will he cry and wish he could’ve spent more time with me? Surely he’ll be there when I’m buried six feet under; surely he’ll step towards the rectangular hole in the ground and pay his respects over my corpse, toss in a chrysanthemum.
I would be there too, watching my body being lowered, helplessly. No one would see me though, no one would pat my shoulder and tell me it will get better, I would suffer alone.
My eyes were tired, and my heart heavy. I sank into the chairs on my front porch, the ones I used to sit in and drink iced tea in the summer, and put my head in my hands. I wish I could remember everything about what happened, but I can’t. It’s a distant dream that I’ve already forgotten, and it wasn’t a pleasant one, that much I can tell. I didn’t know the dead could get tired, but I was exhausted. I leaned back and let my eyes drawn shut, so I could finally say goodbye to this awful situation which was my new reality. The last flitting thought before I went to sleep was of that boy I ran into, his overly white smile, and his books that had skulls burned into them.
The windows of what was once my beautiful home have all blackened with the night. Violet and Ben went to sleep in my mother’s room, but she’s awake, in the blue silk robe I bought her for her birthday, sitting on my bed, her silence to loud. I had to leave, because I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t look at the tears anymore, couldn’t see the self hatred and regret brimming in their eyes. My brother said he should’ve been here earlier, my sister wishes she could’ve told me that she loved me, and my mother…she blames it all on herself. Weren’t her words the ones that made me leave in the first place?
I blame the human race. I blame the world. I blame the unfair game people tend to call life.
It was all swallowing me.
I was tossed off the roof of a tall building, left to spiral through the air. Knowing I was dead but still seeing the world below me, still tortured with the image of what I couldn’t have anymore.
The sky is a dark vicious indigo, casting empty shadows below the enormous tree I stood under in our front yard. I hated the dark, hated the shadows. I was always afraid of the monsters and ghosts lurking in them. Afraid of the unknown…my father used to say I didn’t have much of an imagination, that surprises and blind acceptance were the best gift given to us from the gods. My father, I wonder what will happen when he finds out. Will he cry and wish he could’ve spent more time with me? Surely he’ll be there when I’m buried six feet under; surely he’ll step towards the rectangular hole in the ground and pay his respects over my corpse, toss in a chrysanthemum.
I would be there too, watching my body being lowered, helplessly. No one would see me though, no one would pat my shoulder and tell me it will get better, I would suffer alone.
My eyes were tired, and my heart heavy. I sank into the chairs on my front porch, the ones I used to sit in and drink iced tea in the summer, and put my head in my hands. I wish I could remember everything about what happened, but I can’t. It’s a distant dream that I’ve already forgotten, and it wasn’t a pleasant one, that much I can tell. I didn’t know the dead could get tired, but I was exhausted. I leaned back and let my eyes drawn shut, so I could finally say goodbye to this awful situation which was my new reality. The last flitting thought before I went to sleep was of that boy I ran into, his overly white smile, and his books that had skulls burned into them.
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