On The Edge

Darkness always scared the crap out of me. The thought of untold and unseen horrors hiding in the shadows always had me tangled in knots.

But lately, darkness seemed like the only comforting thing in my life.

That was how I found myself at the park ten minutes from my house every night for the past six months.

With nothing but a mostly haunted structure for a brain, I sat in the shadows cast by the trees, tangled up in my own troubles, hoping for some kind of enlightenment from the fucking universe. But all I ever drew were blanks.

My therapist’s advice to “sit with my thoughts” had morphed into smoke breaks laced with contempt—for the habit I’d picked up, and for myself. There really was no winning.

Pulling in a hefty drag of nicotine, I felt the heavy impact settle into my lungs, then watched the tendril of smoke billow and dance among the trees overhead. It had become a ritual: watch the smoke dissolve into the atmosphere as I haggled with my brain about whether today was the day.

And for once, the fingers wrapped around the edge of the damp bench didn’t shake.

Flicking the cigarette into a nearby trench, I rose and headed toward my apartment. Straight for the stairs.

For the first time in what felt like light years, my feet felt lighter.

So I walked—past Pat’s floor, where the sounds of some old ‘50s film blasted behind her door, all the way to the rooftop.

The air felt different that night. Still. Too still.

Peaceful.

It had been a while since I had been up there,but it seemed nothing much had changed,save for just a more sombre and haunted feel to it. The usual hubbub of the city was muted ,it could be the blood rushing in my ears as I looked over the edge dampening the sound of traffic below,but all I was aware of was the feel of my body being precariously close to the edge.

" You are not ready."

For a split second,I was sure the madness of it all had caught up to me,but from the corner of my eye,a slight movement caught my attention, a hooded figure sat on the edge of the water tank ,feet dangling , face completely covered .

I did not care that this could be a potential homicide just begging to happen ,but wasn't the entire point of this night just that?

" Your hands are shaking, love."

My entire body was shaking actually,not just my damned hands,turning towards the figure on shaky limbs ,I ignored the slight flash of teeth underneath the hood.

Was that a smirk,a sneer or was she just outright laughing at me.

"You look mighty comfortable sitting that close to the edge."

Giving myself a mental pat on the back for regulating my voice and not sounding as shaken as I did, I waited for her to give me an answer.

But all I got was a shrug of her shoulders and deafening silence for an answer.

And so I was left there with nothing but shame at my inability to snuff out something as pathetic as my existence.

You would have thought I would at least be able to do such a menial task,but no,there I stood ten storeys high in sweatpants and a threadbare shirt that did little to protect me from the suddenly cold night.

The same weariness that had settled over my soul quickly invaded the vessel holding it, leaving me tired to the bone and in need of my four walls. I needed my bed,the world was closing in on me and I had no emotional barrier that protected me .

Turning towards the direction of the door leading back into the building,I ignored the heavy scoff that came from the general area where the hooded figure sat.

Almost as if my failure was some amusement of hers.

Shame wrapped around me so tightly that breathing became a little hard- someone else had seen my attempt at taking my own life and had been able to see through my facade. She had glanced at me for a second and had been able to identify the weakness and failure that dripped from my pores.

Increasing my pace so that I no longer had to be in her presence,I stretched my hand, ignoring the goosebumps adorning the inked skin there,only for her soft mellow voice to follow my retreating back.

" You will be here again tomorrow." Confident and smug ,almost all knowing.

"You know that right?"

Hate had always been an emotion that I veered from,but as I walked towards the elevator wondering how I was ever able to take the stairs as I was going up,all I could feel was hatred and jealousy. She seemed the kind to live unapologetically,and that made me envious of her entire existence.

††††††

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The house was quiet,deathly silence engulfed the entire place. It didn't help that the lights were off and the only form of visibility I had was from the security lights beaming into the living room. Something was terribly wrong. I could feel it deep in my guts yet I still pushed forward.

Air chaffed my lungs as I tried to regulate my breathing, making it harsh and loud as I made my way further into the house.

Drip. Drip. Drip

Dread sat heavy on my chest,as I approached the hallway leading to the bathroom. The door hung slightly ajar ,dim light pouring in from the bathroom window, casting ghoulish shadows along the floors and walls.

Something was seriously off.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

I had not seen it - the trail of water running in a steady stream from the bathroom, weaving its way towards the skirting board. But there was something contaminating it,whenever it hit the light,it had a hue of pink to it before disappearing in the shadows.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

And then it hit me ,a faint metallic scent hung heavy in the air. Not strong enough to be picked up on your way in,but as I stood catatonic at the end of the hallway,my sense of smell was invaded and that was all I could decipher at the moment as the rest of my organs failed me.

Breathing became a chore as I tried to move my glued legs off the floor trying to see what was going on,but I somehow ended up on my knees trying to breathe instead. Air sawed its way in and out of my lungs ,barely keeping me replenished with oxygen making my vision blurry and my head to swim in the most unpleasant ways.

And down I went ,not even my knees could keep me up at that point. I closed my eyes,bracing myself for the impact…

-But it never came.

Instead,I jolted awake,my skin clammy with sweat and my shirt clinging onto my skin. Rolling onto my side,I groaned as my bones made a concerning cracking sound,but that was due to lying in one position for over four hours. Trapped in the same fucking nightmare I had been having for Lord knows how long.

Glancing over to the alarm on my bedside,I looked at the glowing numbers with something akin to distaste because I already knew the digits that would be mocking me,and sure enough,blinking back at me were the digits five,one and five. It was always that. Not a second earlier or late.

As I trudged towards the bathroom to wash away the sweat and dread,in preparation of my therapy session, I skipped over a water logged patch on the wooden floor,ignoring the slight shiver of dread,that went down my spine and trying to hopelessly get rid of the cobwebs in my head,but that attempt had been futile for what felt like eons now. Mornings after aforementioned nightmares always left me drained ,both emotionally and physically,but it was now a part of who I was.

Sometimes you wear your demons like you wear your skin.