To exist, or to EXIST! (Goravich's)

He was gone and had been for a while now. It was like losing a part of my heart that I would never get back. I knew he was still alive I had watched him struggled to live in the arena, struggle to come back to me, to our family. He tries every moment to return. It is hard to watch someone that you love struggle to keep their heart beating. Hard to watch them know that they would never come back to the people they loved, no matter how hard they tried. Only one person in the end would come out a live, and most likely he won’t be. It breaks my heart to watch him; I know that it would be much easier if I just turned off the T.V if I just let him go… But I couldn’t not when there was still hope.

The shiny sharp edge of the blade balanced teasingly on my wrist, daring me to pull away. I felt the familiar surge of anticipation which surge through my veins. The blade seemed to dance in one spot for a moment, teasing me… Until I couldn’t help it any longer… slowly I pushed the knife forward. I screamed quietly as the knife sliced through my skin making pain spread through my arm creeping higher and higher until it was all I could feel. I welcomed the pain, it brought relief… something nothing else could ring… Despite the pain a small smile creeps onto my lips, then spreading to my dancing eyes. Pain was my escape, pain was how I cleared my troubled views of my brother, this pain is how I was going to make it through life.

My eyes travel down to where the knife was buried in my wrist. Blood. I tried to swallow, but it got caught in my throat and I was lost in a fit of coughs. Blood. It was everywhere. The knife slid from my grasp, landing on the floor with a small ching. I hated blood- I was terrified of blood. I could feel my scream slide up my throat and I made no attempt to hold it back. It slides passed my lips like a water droplet would slide down a morning leaf. The fear that spread through me was so fierce, it took control of me. I swiped urgently at my wounded arm trying to rid myself of the blood, the blood that threatened to suffocate me, that threatened to smothers me, to kill me. No matter how hard a swiped at it. It refused to leave… It only spread. I took the moment to look carefully at it. It seemed to smile evilly as it seeped out of me. I cowered back as the blood triumphantly escaped the body in which it had been trapped in.

By now I was far from tears. The fear that was rapidly pulsing through my veins was the only thing that I could register. My screams slowly became quitter and quitter until I made no sound at all apart from quiet whimpers that occasionally escaped my lips…

When had my life became so messed up? When had I became this little wimp that could not stand the site of blood, that could not stand anything?… I was afraid of life it’s self… How long could a person live on with life being terrified of what may lie around a corner, or under the sheets of my bed….?

Dragging my eyes away from the blood that now dominated my arm; I look at the carpet in which I sat on. The area around me was scarlet red from the blood that had dyed it that colour. The furniture in the room was old and broken, most of them barely standing anymore, from the use they had endured. They once had been bright and colourful and would have added life to the room, but now they are dull and colourless, making the room seem dull and boring. Everything in the room was coated with a thick layer of dust, that had been built up over years; no one bothering to clean anything.

I sit with my back against the wall.I wish I could just end this life that I live in… I wish I could be happy… Even one happy moment would be better than any of this life that I live in. But of course my wish would never be granted no matter how hard I tried. It feels like I was only put on this world to be an ornament, no real purpose for me… No reason to exist