One More Step
By, Professorpotter23
Disclaimer: Not Mine.
Death. It isn't so bad. I should know. I've died before. Not physically I haven't. The person inside of me is gone. The pain is different from when you get cut or bruised. The pain is like a constant force, pushing down on you and making you feel small. It's as if your heart wants to explode but there's no room inside of you for it to happen. After a while, you learn to forget the pain and you learn how to observe. You learn to observe how other people see you and others. The person who was connected to my soul is no longer alive. How I am living now is through routine. Routine to wake up, go to school, and say the right words in a conversation. They're all habits, taught to me as I grew up. I have no escape. No release on my pedal to keep me from running away from this eternal torture. The last cable connecting me to the world is the existence of other people's problems. To forget mine, to let it go, I suffer from their pain. The immeasurable rush of emotions that I yearn to feel; that small glimpse of true happiness. I long to feel that. I desperately desire to feel what only others have been able to feel. The absolute pleasure of happiness and love. I am able to perceive how others view me through their perspective. I must be blind in order not to be able to. I see them change and become completely different people in front of me; I feel as if I am the only one who stays the same. I don't want to be stuck in this limbo anymore. I want to know what my life would have been like if I made the decision to stay. In fact, I take back what I said before; the pain of dying? Unbearable. After that last cable has been cut, the pain that comes with death stays with you forever. Every day it haunts you. When you dream, death always watches over you, makes sure that you remain tethered to his realm. When you see forms of happiness so easily shown, jealousy completely overtakes you. Sadness clouds over every sight you see. It's too hard to concentrate with the pain stabbing at your heart. Would it be considered selfish of me to put my happiness forth first? I don't believe I would be able to if given the chance. This pain makes you feel another thing: pity. Pity for those who are diseased with the same thing you are affected by. This pain hurts, but I would die a thousand times over so nobody else would have to experience it. Death. It isn't so bad. I should know. I've died before.