NOTE: The following is just a story which i wrote out of passion. Please do not copy my stuff. And about which i speak below i do not feel as such. So don't freak out. Thank you! and enjoy. Please feel free to leave me comments.
It is dark tonight. I feel tired, so tired. I hear the thunder outside the trees are swaying, it is as if they are calling me, telling me it’s too late. I can never go back, the path ahead is so dark I am afraid to take leap forward, afraid that I might fall. Fall so hard that no one would be able to catch me. Numb I am so numb I can no longer feel. It should make me feel good, but it doesn’t. I sit by the window like a soulless doll with no present ,a dark future and a gruesome past of which I am afraid to speak. It starts to rain now, the rain is falling against my window washing away with it all the dust. But the filth in my life can never be rinsed away. It’ll forever remain like a scar etched on my heart and soul. I am wounded, I bleed. At least now I know that I am human. It hurts but I pay no mind to it, in a little while I won’t be here anymore. My wrist bleeds the wound is open and weeping. No one notices that I also weep on the inside. I mourn for my mistakes, losses and sins. The room gyrates before my eyes. I feel weak now, the knife slips from my hands and lands with a thud on the floor. Where am I? How did I get here? How could I have gone so wrong… I can never go back, never. My head droops, so tired. Yes, it is working now, I can no longer feel, I no longer care. I am slowly dying away. Blood pools around my feet. It’s not precisely red, to me it seems scarlet. So beautiful. Nothing in my life was ever beautiful but it pleases me that today I die beautiful. If the gateway to death is so scenic the end must be so divine. I see that room no more. Its dark now, I am drifting away. I deem I may be dead. That makes me jovial perhaps I may lead a better life dead than alive. I have nothing to fear now, no need to run. I am finally free, boundless, released from that horrible, horrible torture. I slowly wither away.
Today is the day when my breath has stopped yet still I breathe.
By
Reetuparna Dutta
About Me
- reetu416
- Of all things to speak. Speaking bout urself is one of the most difficult topics to speak. Maybe we feel and since we know ourselves so well the others must also be knowing us. Doesn't seem very logical, but its what i feel. I think u know by now that i am very philosphical and an addict of romance. I thrive on the inner meaning to life and in the end produce something totally unique than what other might see and feel.