Dream about death
The roaring of blood in my ears, the palpitating heartbeats, the sudden need for air. Stumbling across the living room, tears making my vision go blurry. I gasped harder, lungs working beyond it’s limits to supply oxygen to my body. Vision going darker, a dark tunnel forming around me. My heart clenches up, a fist around it, squeezing it tightly. I fall to the ground, my hand helplessly scratching at my chest in an attempt to stop the stabbing pain. Shivering with fear and breaking out a cold sweat on a sweltering Tuesday night, my mind fought a losing battle with the monster inside. Gentle whispers of death surrounded me, coaxing me towards salvation. In a last-ditch effort, my mind willed my body forward. With trembling hands on the wall, supporting my weight, I dragged myself forward towards the kitchen. At last, I made it. A glint caught my eye in the darkness, “A pair of scissors!” I cried hoarsely, reaching out to grab that sharp metal object. “Pain!“, the monster yelled, “I need pain!!” Sighing, I sink to the floor. The pain came in light bursts at first, small scratches on my arm. “More! More!” My hand worked in a frantic mess, a mind of its own. Wounds that cut deep do not hurt at first. Crimson blood was flowing down, mixing with the tears that drip like a broken faucet down my face. A few drops of tears mixed with one drop of blood. It’s was a cocktail, of sweetness and saltiness, mixed for optimal consumption. Morbid ain’t we? The little voice in me whispered, making me laugh maniacally. I was at the brink of insanity, laughing and crying at the same time while seemingly dying from the loss of blood. “Come on sweetheart, why not just DIE? It helps wonders!” It giggled in my ear, whispering sweet words of eternity, of promise, of rebirth. I clung to those words, wanting them to be true. I was drowning, in the cacophony of voices that were yelling at me to give in to temptation. Closing my eyes, I sink, deeper into the void that held the monster. It willed me to make my way to the window still, convincing me that this was a quick way to enter into the afterlife. Just one short jump that lasts few seconds and I can restart my life again. It was the devil’s temptation and resisting it was indeed futile. Giving up, I felt myself letting go, succumbing to the devil’s wish. “Remember the promise!” Rachel yelled, grabbing me from within. The clock chimed at the same time, signalling that it was 3 am in morning. Eyes refocused, I looked down. My hands gripped tightly onto the window still, knuckles turning white from the tension exerted. A raw and intense pain shot through my left arm. Swearing a little, I looked at it. Gruesome deep cuts, like a barcode, filled my arm. The blood that had dried felt sticky on my arm. Grabbing some tissues, I tried to clean up the blood surrounding the gaping wound. I laughed weakly as the pain from the cuts starts to set in. Staring back down again at the wounds, I wondered how I should cover this up at school. Should I just wear a jacket? Or should I tie a bandage around it and make a silly excuse that a cat has scratched me badly? I have to revert back to the “me” that everyone knew, not this disgusting creature that cuts to remove “pain”. Tick tock, tick-tock. The sound of the clock filled the silent night. Tick tock, tick-tock. Time to stop crying. Tick tock, tick-tock. Time to reset my emotions. Tick tock, tick-tock. Time to be me again......
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
