Young Lust
21st June, 2004.
My brain could not seem to function; it was beginning to shut down on itself probably because my heart was died. It was my papas' funeral and his death still had not sunk in for me, I had woken up every morning after expecting to find him in his study or the living room but I never did. He was gone, dead. I lay awake at night hearing the bang of the gun, images of my papa falling to the ground ran through my mind constantly. I was well aware that I looked like the living dead, I hadn't washed in weeks, my grandmother had walked me in to the shower and this was where I currently resided. Crouched on the floor of my bathroom, towel shoved in my mouth to hide the screams. My papa, my best friend was dead and I hadn't had a chance to save him, he was dead before he hit the floor and I didn't tell him I love him. He was gone and I would never see him again, a part of me had died that day. It was gone forever; about to be buried today with my safe haven, what had caused my papa to do this?
Was it the arguing with my mother? I only remembered his shouting, his accusations that she was seeing other men. I'd come to the conclusion that my papa was dead because of her, she's took the only person who understood me away. I hated her, I'd avoided my mother with every chance I had, not that she'd been around to see me; Victoria had returned and they'd spent hours locked up in my mother's room. The room where it happened. I slowly moved from my damp spot and slowly began to get ready, my reflection made me feel sick, I could only see my papa in me.
"Isabella, it's time." My grandmother stood at my door, she smiled slightly the sad sympathetic smile people used when they didn't know what to do. My brain couldn't quite seem to understand what I was meant to do but my body did, my legs carried me out of my bedroom and down the hall. I didn't look at anyone, I looked straight ahead, I imagined this was a family outing we were all going to some fancy place my mother had arranged. My papa would be waiting for me at the door and I would take his hand and feel safe, I would stay with him for the evening and know I would be fine because I was with the main person in my life.
I knew I was lying to myself but living pretending like this was the only way I was able to get through, the reality was too much to bear; my arms had suffered the price of my reality check. I subconsciously rubbed the latest wound on my arm and envisioned my father waiting for me at the end of the hall. When I reached the end my heart lurched and my head swirled as it was only my grandpa standing there, I bit my bottom lip holding in the tears I knew I could never shed in public.
"Bella, there you are. Are you ready to go?" I nodded and stood next to my grandpa, my voice had disappeared after my papa's death, I'd woken up and attempted to speak only to find it was not there any more It was like my body had stopped functioning now the only person who talked and listened to me was dead, my body was giving up and I didn't want to go on any more. My papa's death had brought on the cloud of darkness more than before.
/
As ridiculous as it sounds I couldn't for the life of me remember the funeral, I remember leaving and getting in to the car, my papa in the back. After that it all goes cloudy and hazy, my vision cleared and I found myself alone in my room dazed and confused; this was the time I let it all out. I put my fist in to my mouth and sobbed, choking sobs that couldn't even be hidden by the fabric in my mouth, my body shook and the tears fell continuously. I was bent over in extreme pain, it felt like my heart had exploded and died, I had no reason for it any more my papa was dead, and who was I meant to love? Why should I bother with something as trivial as love? I wouldn't be alive for much longer anyway. I crawled over to the box where I held my razor, I sat on the floor and looked down at my arms they were red and sore, the skin puckered from slicing myself open. I fingered the scabs on my arm, I enjoyed the pain I liked punishing myself, hurting myself relieved some of the guilt from not saving my papa, or telling him I loved him before he died. Now was time though, to join him and follow on after him, I couldn't do it any more I couldn't live knowing that I didn't save my papa or that my mother pushed him over the edge and killed him, no one else was important to me and I couldn't live with this feeling in my chest anymore. The feeling was killing me, it was heavy weighing me down, I couldn't even get my head around how I felt, I couldn't do this any more I felt like a dam had been broken that my father had kept safe being alive and now I was about to be drowned from this water these intense feelings and thoughts constantly in my head.
I lifted my sleeve and pressed the blade against my skin, my head began to spin and cloud over, the more pressure I pushed down the foggier my eyes became. I pulled the blade along my skin till it reached to the tip of my palm, the blood flowed steadily down my arm and I released a sigh I didn't realise I was holding. I could feel the pain somewhere inside me but I couldn't quite register it, I reached over and pushed the blade in to my other arm. After I'd sliced my wrists open I rested back and looked down at my handy work, I lay back and waited, it may seem strange I'd just slit my wrists open but the emotional pain inside of me was killing me more than any physical wound.
I'm coming daddy, are you there?
/
Somewhere far away I heard someone screaming, it was loud I could tell, the voice was terrified they were calling for help, an ambulance, anything? I could hear them but my brain couldn't quite get the gist of what they were saying somehow, my eyes were rolled in the back of my head and my tongue felt thick and heavy, I couldn't register even if I wanted to. I was like a paralysis victim, I was there but I wasn't quite here. The only comforting thought I had was that soon I would be out of here, I was probably travelling in to the afterlife, would my father be there waiting for me? Or would I have to find him? Would my soul be damned for taking my own life? Would there be anything at all? I was waiting to find this all out.
I entered the world of nothingness, a light and easy feeling, I awaited death with my arms wide open. I'd accepted that I was going to die and I didn't have a problem with it, my emotional pain was too much to bear and since my safety net had killed himself I really did not see any point of life anymore.
/
I woke up and it was bright, I groaned so this was what the afterlife was like? All those corny films were right? Ugh too bright. I opened my eyes and blinked trying to adjust myself to the ridiculously bright light, when I finally came around I saw that there were bandages on one wrist and a smaller one of my other one. I guess I didn't cut as deep the second time round. Wait, am I in a hospital? What, no? I died. I know I did, that was the point of all of this, please God I'm dead, I'm with my papa.
I looked around and my heart broke, Victoria was in a chair beside, I'm alive. I'm fucking alive. I couldn't stop the tears, I started crying, and my sister jumped out of her seat and began clucking around me, I stopped listening I didn't want to listen. I was alive; I'd failed my papa twice now.
My sister ran to get my mother I presumed, they returned with a doctor in tow.
"Welcome back Isabella we almost lost you, your mother and sister were so worried. How are you feeling?" I couldn't speak or I would have told him to go fuck himself, I almost died, this was a sick joke.
I sat and cried, I couldn't stop I was so annoyed at myself which made the tears fall more, my sister tried to comfort me but I pushed her off.
The doctor went over certain things, I was to stay with them for psychoanalysis, they wanted to see how my mental state was. How the fuck did they think it was? I'd just lost my papa and failed at joining him. I was taken to the psych ward, my mother wouldn't look at me, I wanted her to look at me, I wanted her to know that because she had ruined my papas life she had ultimately ruined mine. I was put in to a wheel chair and my mother pushed me to the elevator, I so badly wanted to tell her how much I loathed her, how much I hated her, and wished she'd died instead of my papa.
/So I think I have like the next 5 chapters planned out now, I'll just get them all written out as quickly as I can. Thank you for the feedback and follows etc. Peace and love xo