Darkness

Darkness. That is all I could see, the gritty floor and wet smell of dirt was putrid. It made me want to throw up, which I realized would only make the smell worse. My back was pressed against the hard, cool and smooth wall. My body was hot and sweaty,curled into a tight ball against the dirty wall. I could only taste metallic blood in my mouth, not sure which of my multitudinous stinging wounds has opened up this time. I wondered vaguely if I would find my already depleted energy, or at least find light. I tried to move any of my limbs, sharp pains stabbing in my weak muscles like pin pricks,crying out I retracted back into a ball,letting out a muffled sob into my dirty clothes. I glanced around again, hoping for a sign of life, or light. I found none as the endless and eternal darkness swallowed me up like a butterfly caught in a jar. I had lost all count of time as minutes turned into hours, hours turning to days, days to weeks, and weeks to years. I did not know how long I had been fighting the darkness that I always associated with hopelessness. My mind raced as I contemplated with when I had gotten here. I could not think of a time when I had not felt this stabbing pain in the center of my chest, the numbness of my mind. The smell of dirt, blood and death always hung on the damp air, my body always felt cramped against the hard walls, barely any space to move. Most days I just sat there, waiting for my paroxysm of sadness to pass over me, leaving me breathless and sad when it did. My breathing was always raspy and uneven, my chest hurting from the oxygen that seemed radioactive.

I was so alone.

I can barely remember when I started having this feeling. I have always seen people, lived among people and sometimes even sat or stood next to people. Needless to say, I know people, and I would like to believe that people have a slight inkling of my existence. People are complicated though, unlike rocks or cell phone batteries. It would be stupid to say that a grain of sand on a beach is alone or a cell phone battery is dead while your phone screen is still on. These statements are meant to be factually paradoxical. Why do they make so much sense to me now though? How is it that I feel so dead yet my heart is still beating? Why do i continue to feel this pain? I thought death meant the end of suffering; or do i need to complete the process and stop the heart from beating too? Perhaps the pain radiates from my heart. I think  the sadness runs in my veins and my heart faithfully pumps it to the rest of my body. Perhaps I need to chop these veins off and let the sadness ooze out. That must be the solution to my plight. It’s not the best option but it’s worth a try; what other better options are available anyway?

As my mind wanders around in despair, a slight vibration from my phone zaps me back to reality. It was one of the few days I had forgotten to put my phone on silent. A sudden burst of joy hits me in anticipation that a guardian angel was finally here for the rescue. My heart beats faster as I quickly type in my phone passcode. There were a few messages on the notification tray. Apparently google had changed their privacy policy and I needed to accept the new terms – not that I cared, but I accepted them anyway. I didn’t even check what I was accepting this time. How useful would emails be to a dead man anyway? Candy crush was also eager to have me back in the app with a notification that I had full set of lives once again. This was my sadness pause button but I just swiped it away and went ahead to the last and most recent notification. It was from Facebook.”Your friend’s birthday is today, send them a message to let them know that you are thinking about them.” This one caught me off guard. I was midway typing my happy birthday message and then I stopped. Why am I doing this? I am not thinking about this friend. In fact, if everything goes to plan and this sadness oozes out without commotion, I will be gone for good. This person will probably read my eulogy and later use that paper to remove a hot cooking pot from the stove. I slowly placed the phone on the table and as my eyelids grew heavier, I slid into the world of oblivion.