The Depth of Regret
Bloody Matramony
I observed myself intensly as I stood with him on the edge of the raging tar pit, thick and black. I watched myself as we spoke to each other. The twisted veins wrapped around us in bloody matramony. It was almost comical how, then I had felt so wanted, so connected, when only moments later it would all be ripped away. Looking back on this second, I could see the vision of desperation crossed his face. He had known something all along. The mystery of the solution still remained unsolved of exactly what he was hiding.
If there was air to fuel my lungs, I would have willed myself to gasp as I saw him stagger involuntarily backwards, growing closer with every forboding step towards the pit.
The vibrant blue, green flesh of the blood drenched veins, pulled and stretched as we fell apart. "I must leave." I heard him whisper. His eyes aglow, hair whipping around his pale skin.
"No" my double screamed and reached out to him, to hold him as he teetered precariously. The tar pit smoking, churning before us.
His hand extended as well, but it was not reaching for mine. The fingertips touched my freezing skin, where my heart beat rapidly. The beats then became two. Two sets. But sharing was not on his mind.
Before anyword was spoken, before any breath was breathed...it was gobe. With such superior swiftness, he had released my heart from its fleshy prison. There was no pain, no gruesome bloodshed, it was merely more terrible then both. Along with my heart, all emotion, any feeling and any thoughts not saddened, had disappeared.
I stood then, empty, motionless, immobile. And now it was his turn to fall. Fall. Fall back into the grueling tar from which there would be no returning. It was my tar. A mixture of all my collected juvenile mistakes. A mixture that could have been avoided but now proved fatal for the most important consuming being in my entire existance. Through eyes blinded by confusion, I watched the scene and for the first time a revelation strolled through my mind.
The whole thing- the suffocation, the misdemeaning, the mental warfare. It was my doing. My fault. I have killed the one I now call the Depth of Regret. I have always created his fate and my own destiny.
If there was air to fuel my lungs, I would have willed myself to gasp as I saw him stagger involuntarily backwards, growing closer with every forboding step towards the pit.
The vibrant blue, green flesh of the blood drenched veins, pulled and stretched as we fell apart. "I must leave." I heard him whisper. His eyes aglow, hair whipping around his pale skin.
"No" my double screamed and reached out to him, to hold him as he teetered precariously. The tar pit smoking, churning before us.
His hand extended as well, but it was not reaching for mine. The fingertips touched my freezing skin, where my heart beat rapidly. The beats then became two. Two sets. But sharing was not on his mind.
Before anyword was spoken, before any breath was breathed...it was gobe. With such superior swiftness, he had released my heart from its fleshy prison. There was no pain, no gruesome bloodshed, it was merely more terrible then both. Along with my heart, all emotion, any feeling and any thoughts not saddened, had disappeared.
I stood then, empty, motionless, immobile. And now it was his turn to fall. Fall. Fall back into the grueling tar from which there would be no returning. It was my tar. A mixture of all my collected juvenile mistakes. A mixture that could have been avoided but now proved fatal for the most important consuming being in my entire existance. Through eyes blinded by confusion, I watched the scene and for the first time a revelation strolled through my mind.
The whole thing- the suffocation, the misdemeaning, the mental warfare. It was my doing. My fault. I have killed the one I now call the Depth of Regret. I have always created his fate and my own destiny.