A/n: I really don't know why I wrote this. Boredom maybe. But this is the
result of just sitting down at my computer, and typing. Didn't plan it out
or anything, it's just whatever came out of my head as I wrote. So review
it, bad or good. The ending is left to your imagination.
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What am I doing here? Awakened from the nightmare, only to plunge headfirst into what is possibly an even greater one. And this time, it isn't a dream.
What do I hope to accomplish? Redemption? Absolution? Neither are forthcoming. They never are, they never will be. I am too far gone for that. Too far from human now.
Do I even have a soul to redeem anymore? I don't know. There is no one who can tell me. So I slept. I retreated from the world, hoping for answers, hoping to escape the nightmare. But even there, they haunt me. Memories of the past, my demons. They are inescapable.
Will I ever be free? Can I leave behind this mutated body, these monsters that dwell within? There is only one solution, one I cannot bring myself to face. But I have slept so long, what is the sleep of death to me? Nothing.
What do I have to live for? I still don't know. I do not deserve to live. Not when she is dead. Not when I am the one who caused her to die. Still, I cannot bring myself to end it. For hours I stare at the cold metal sitting on the table, on the floor, in my hand. It has been many places over the course of my long, painful life, but each time, it is put away again. Each time, after I would awaken, I would bring it out, staring down the barrel, as if on the other end I could see my own soul. But each time, only blackness. And so I would fall into the deep slumber once more, hiding from the things that cannot be hidden from.
Can I even die anymore? Or have these things inside me rendered me immortal. In a way, it is fitting. Eternal torment, or death by my own hand. I sit, my finger edging toward the trigger once more, wondering which would be more painful. Raising the gun, I still don't know.
I still don't know. . .
What am I doing here? Awakened from the nightmare, only to plunge headfirst into what is possibly an even greater one. And this time, it isn't a dream.
What do I hope to accomplish? Redemption? Absolution? Neither are forthcoming. They never are, they never will be. I am too far gone for that. Too far from human now.
Do I even have a soul to redeem anymore? I don't know. There is no one who can tell me. So I slept. I retreated from the world, hoping for answers, hoping to escape the nightmare. But even there, they haunt me. Memories of the past, my demons. They are inescapable.
Will I ever be free? Can I leave behind this mutated body, these monsters that dwell within? There is only one solution, one I cannot bring myself to face. But I have slept so long, what is the sleep of death to me? Nothing.
What do I have to live for? I still don't know. I do not deserve to live. Not when she is dead. Not when I am the one who caused her to die. Still, I cannot bring myself to end it. For hours I stare at the cold metal sitting on the table, on the floor, in my hand. It has been many places over the course of my long, painful life, but each time, it is put away again. Each time, after I would awaken, I would bring it out, staring down the barrel, as if on the other end I could see my own soul. But each time, only blackness. And so I would fall into the deep slumber once more, hiding from the things that cannot be hidden from.
Can I even die anymore? Or have these things inside me rendered me immortal. In a way, it is fitting. Eternal torment, or death by my own hand. I sit, my finger edging toward the trigger once more, wondering which would be more painful. Raising the gun, I still don't know.
I still don't know. . .