A/N at the bottom
Out of the Darkness
I look up at the white rings that I have clung onto for some time. My death grip on them is the only thing holding me up right now, I can feel the stress starting to get to me again. As much as I hate to admit it, I'm getting tired again; the ever so simple desire to relax and let go starts to prod at my aching muscles. I've been holding onto these rings above me for so long, years of my life clinging to the stress, unable to accept the fate of what would befall me if I were to let them go.
I look down to the black pool below. Stagnate and scentless black water lay just out of reach of me, I feel myself lower and pull back up; I turn my sight away, afraid of what I must do, what I need to do. My fear subsides and I look once more, my heart skips a beat as I relive what is down there. Even relaxing a little and submersing myself even the smallest amount would cause me to fall into a day or so of despair. I couldn't do it, the memories of the helplessness and loneliness that its touch caused; the unimaginable fatigue and lack of caring was to much to bare.
But I knew that's what I had to do, I had no choice now. The stress has been growing more and more on my mind. My forced laughs to appease my friends were becoming genuinely maniacal. It was not the kind of laugh that made you feel good, it was the kind of laugh you gave when you honestly liked the fact that you saw a car crash, or saw someone succumb to a fall that would cause life altering injuries. It was the kind of laugh that sent chills up the spines of even your most twisted friends and enemies alike.
I have to escape this madness, if i continue on like this; it will only be a matter of time until I either end up in the psych-ward or prison. I take a breath as I prepare for my decent. I never was one to give up like this, to just stop fighting and give in to that which plagued me; but this time, that was the whole point. I can't let other get hurt, and if I have to choose between being a psychopathic unknown and being a depressed husk... Than I will be the less dangerous.
My fingers begin to slip, and my mind races begins to race about how this will end. How crazy am I? This is the end. Half my life I had held onto the thin layer of stress that kept me from slipping into the despair and sadness below. Years and years I had fought my way to live a normal life, to be a productive member of society and attempt to be happy. Whenever I'd see happy individuals cross my path, i couldn't help but despise them. Despise them for having what I desperately wanted, those smug happy-go-lucky smiles they bore told of the joy they felt. The joy that I couldn't understand and hated them and myself for not ascertaining. Though the hate only added to the depression i felt and thus, added to my own stress; I couldn't help but be jealous. Sitting on the brink of sanity and motivation, knowing that the wrong move could set me into the under toe of depression and loneliness or a broken mind of a psychopath who loved the suffering of others? Who wouldn't be jealous of those who had managed to find happiness?
My fingers give way to the rings, and In silent disappointment, I fall...
It's colder than I remember. I can feel everything beginning to relax as I descend the dark waters: all of my stress, all my anxieties, and hopes give way to a strangely relaxing sadness. I look up and contemplate escape to the stress above, though my thoughts are quickly expunged when the rapid realization hits me that; It's only going to be the same thing. Nothing has changed, nothing will change. All of my plans and memories have begun to numb, even the fear I had for that which lay at the bottom was beginning to subside. Though he scared me back into the stress and will to live last time, this time I would face him without fear or hesitation, I had nothing left to lose.
The further I fall, the closer I get to him, the more I can see him. There had only been one other time in my life I was this deep into the despair, the time he drove me back tot he surface. I had taken some pills to end it all, but I stayed at home. I knew there were people who would call the ambulance, but with everything I took, I didn't expect to live. The doctors said it was a miracle that I survived. Even as quickly as the Ambulance had been called, they had to keep me in the van for over five hours before a hospital bed was available. Even with over120,000 milligrams of pure garbage in my system, I was alive and and physically well. They couldn't explain how it happened but I knew. I had found a new will to live, and it lay withing the deepest pits of my soul. It's name, was fear.
Finally I reach the bottom, that's it. There is no going back now. No matter what happens from this point on, I will never be who I once was. I will never feel any semblance of joy, happiness, kindness or love, but at least I wouldn't feel stress, anger, hate or malice. It was then that it dawned on me how tired I actually was, I had been burning the candle at both ends for some time now. Fighting a two way war to keep from the psychopath I knew I was becoming, and the sea of despair and hopelessness I knew would come from relaxing and letting my guard down to it. I didn't find the relief of finally letting go, as much as I had wanted it; there was none to be had. The sadness and guilt had stolen any kind feelings I would have shown to myself.
I look up to see him, a sick and Ironic revelation coming to mind. He looked exactly like me, the same body type, the same facial structure and the same sadistic grin I wore when I scoffed at the misfortunes of others. We were twins save two distinct features: His eyes and his teeth. His eyes were a sickly glowing yellow, and his teeth were perfectly white and well intact, in contrast to my yellowing and cracked from midnight gritting own. As I continued to gaze, i finally understood what he was. He was the tiny voice in the back of ones mind that told them they weren't good enough. He was every negative thought I had about myself, every shred of doubt, every bit of self loathing, everything I ever hated about myself and worst of all; he was what I was slowly becoming.
I wanted to blame him, I wanted to say that this was all his fault. I wanted him to hurt like I hurt, to feel the sadness and loneliness that had torn at me for so long. To feel the constant anger at himself for the hatred, resentment and guilt that I went through day by day. I wanted to absolve myself of the sins of my life, cast away all feeling of responsibility for what happened to me; where I am, how I got here, and how I treated others in life... But I couldn't. He was only the psychological manifestation of all of the anger and pain I had bottled up inside. He was not a devil sent into my by another, but the devil I created for myself.
He is face contorted into a sinister smile as images of my life began to appear behind him. My younger years when I was cruel to animals and my siblings. The guilt in my rose when I watched as a helpless cat fell free from my grip off of my rooftop. A scowl growing on my face when I noticed that it didn't fall on it's back and rive in pain. Another scene played of me breaking a mirror and telling my younger sister to clean it up, tears streaming as the glass shards began to shred her naked feet. My guilt began to rumble up into my throat, this wasn't right. I shouldn't be feeling this way down here.
He smirks at me again before the scenes behind him change, showing me passing a police car. I see the sights I saw years ago... A yellow hummer flipped upside down, two bodies being pulled out by emergency crews. I laughed, I laughed at the idiocy of who ever the driver was. I didn't care if it was the death of two innocent people, or even if it was another driver who had run them off the road. They were dead, they were stupid and that deserved a laugh from me.
As i watched the painful memory, I couldn't believe my eyes nor my feelings. How could I have laughed like that? Was I truly so hateful for people I didn't even know? Another singe of pain and guilt crashed over my psyche as the scene changed to my "family" back at the old house when I was no more than five. My mother was drunk as she usually was at that time, she was yelling at me; calling me worthless, reasoning how I was the cause of all of her misery and anger. She slapped me a crossed the face and began to sob. She kept asking me "Why?" Why was I born? Why did I have to turn out the way I did, why did I have to ruin her life. It was all my fault, I was a bad child. I couldn't do anything right.
He laughed as the ghostly scene disappeared into the darkness again. My eyes made way to find an untrimmed and trembling finger pointed to me. I knew what he was doing, and he was right in doing so. It was my fault, all other things I had ever done in my life were meaningless to me now. All i could think about where all of the sins I had committed against others. Silence filled the growing tension between us now, I couldn't say anything against him; all desire had faded and there was nothing left but shame.
Another scene played, and I watched as I spat on a kid after i had pushed him into a ditch. I remembered this poor child. He was the kid at school everyone picked on, aside from me. He was a smaller young fellow; he was in the same 2nd grade classes as me, but he looked like he should have been in kindergarten. I smiled down at his crying face, he didn't understand why I did it, or why the other kids picked on him. But I didn't hate him for the same reasons the others did, I hated him because he was weak and helpless. I hated him because he was the physical manifestation of everything I was on the inside.
The scene flashed and I was back in school, a somber smile on my face that I wasn't being picked on after what I did to the poor child the day before. The teacher came in with a sad expression and told me something I would never forget; she said that the poor bastard was dead. I was in shock, not for the sake of his death, but for the sake of myself now that he was gone. There wouldn't be anyone to pick on besides me now, and i hated him for leaving me to face them all alone. Turns out he killed himself by drinking a whole bunch of bleach the night before, and when his parents came in to give him his mid night medication; they found that he wasn't breathing.
I turned from the image and began to shiver. How could I do that to him? I knew he was weak because he had a disease, but I didn't care, though he had done me no harm, i wanted to see him suffer. How heartless could one child be?
The image was swiped away and replaced with a red glow peaking out threw the frame of a black door. I looked upon the the new and strangely solid object before I realized what awaited me on the other side, and how much I truly deserved it. There would be no mistakes this time, I know how get a fire arm and forgo all doubts of a certain grave. I would finally atone for all of the sins in my life by washing them away with the fires that awaited me.
I begin to walk to the door, more ghostly scenes of my life playing as I pass. The times of loneliness I had spent in my room looking at the four cold white walls surrounding me. The numerous occasions of my mother and step father laughing at my hopes and dreams to be a Jet fighter for the Air Force. All thoughts and reason were dilapidated in a childish sense of right and wrong. I was wrong, I was an abomination to my mother, an excuse of a human being to my father, and a creature lower than any Jew killing Nazi, in my own eyes.
I stopped and looked at him before I continued to the door. He smiled and nodded his approval at my final surrender. All the lies i had told, all of the pain I had caused everyone, all of the guilt and hardships I was responsible for could be found within him and his eyes. My god those eyes, those god damn knowing eyes were right in front of me now; they made everything I had seen previously look like nothing in comparison to the deep secrets they told. At that moment, I felt even worse than I had before. I felt death was too good for me, that i had to find another way to suffer before my sins could be cleansed.
For the first time in my life, i had felt like I hadn't suffered enough to payback what I had taken. All of the exhaustion i had felt keeping up the stress felt like a dim memory now, and I wasn't worth it. I turned my head away, and began to make way for the door, I was close now; and I could feel the heat from the other side piercing the cold depths of the despair, and offering it's reprieve. As I reached for the handle, something happened that I never expected. A voice came, asking me to stop.
I turned to see a dimly glowing pink haired girl floating towards me. My eyebrows shot up before tears began to roll down my face, she shouldn't be here. I didn't know who she was, or how she came down here. My memory was a haze to such a divine creature of light. I retracted my hand from the door and turned my body to meet this new comer. As I walked forward, he grabbed my arm to hold my body back from her. I was shocked at what I found on his face, it wasn't the mask of cynical pleasure that he usually wore, but one of fear. I turned back to see the young girl had stopped her advance and gently descended to the ground, a smile on her face.
A feeling of skepticism flooded my conscious, the feeling was slightly familiar, though mostly alien now. Why was she here? Was she really here? Is this a trick of some kind? I probably deserve that don't I? I watched and waited for her to say something, with him glaring fearfully at her. She didn't speak, she didn't even move. She only looked upon me with kind and caring eyes, I fall to my knees and look away, I couldn't accept such a kindhearted being would look upon me with such favor. I wanted her to leave, not for the sake of her seeing my memories and shaming me to no end, but because this was no place for her. She was too good for this dark pool of despair and misery.
I flinched as she finally let out a motion, gently and calmly she held out her hand to me, her kind green eyes smiling down at me. I couldn't believe it, was she really here to help me? And if she was, why? I looked over to find the fear ridden face of the psychological manifestation was now back to his usual smirk. I watched in shame and embarrassment as the ghostly scenes of my darkest secrets were displayed for her to see. Though, she didn't seem to notice, and if she did she didn't care. The pink haired goddess of light only smiled down at me, he offering hand still firmly in place for me to take.
"She is planning on using you." the manifestation seethed. I look over to him to watch him glaring at her. I look back to find any sign of malice upon her features, but try as hard as might, i cannot find anything negative to speak of. "Why else would she be here? To help you? Do you really think you deserve it?" he calls, his face looking at me now.
My face bows slightly to the ground, I know he's right. I know that if I continue on in this world, the truth of the matter is that I will only bring more misery and pain to those whom i may come into contact with. Call me emo if you want, but insults don't make make the truth any less severe.
"No." Her voice makes my head shoot up, tears threatening to fall from my eyes. her lily pad eyes met mine before she slowly shakes her head. I see something shifting behind her, the first tear streams down my cheek as I observe my teenaged self pulling a kitten out of a dumpster, than carefully climbing in and after a few moments i pop my head back out with another. The phantom image fades and another scene begins of my walking through the hallways of my high school. I observe a small kid getting picked on by a sophomore i knew, and slammed the bully into a locker before I lectured him on how it felt to be picked on because your weaker. I couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that I was hauled off to the principals office after that, and behind closed doors he praised me for my protective action.
"She lies!" The manifestation called, his voice angry and horse. I look back with a confused expression. I remember doing those things, she wasn't lying. Why would he say that? Why was he lying?
I looked back to her to see multiple scenes of my past playing behind her. Times that I had helped people for no reason other than for the sake of doing right. When i gave a quarter to an elderly woman in the check out line at a grocery store so she wouldn't have to break a five for it. A child whom I had never met, sobbed under a tree, and I came to talk to and comfort her. Good memories I had all but forgotten throughout the time of my life, I found it unbelievable how many good things I had done.
The girl took a few steps closer to me, she began to look familiar as the heat of her glowing radiated on me. I could make out a yellow dress with three butterfly's sewn into the hip of her skirt. He name escapes me for the moment, the more I try to grasp it, the further away my mind pushes the words.
I hear a dark chuckle from besides me. My head slowly turn to see the manifestation was now holding his gaze with amused eyes. "So, you did do some 'nice things' for people and animals. His eyes turned to me, even now making me twinge with guilt of the past. "But does that really really make up for trying to kill a cat? Does that make up for sending your sister to the hospital? And most importantly, does that make up for the fact YOU sent that poor boy to his death at such a young age?"
My eyes widen as the memories begin to flow back to me with more clarity than the images he managed to create. I felt like throwing up at how sick and twisted I was.
"Was."
I could never forgive myself for the pain and misery that I had helped contribute to for absolutely no other reason than to make some one feel worse than I did.
"Had."
My past was real, the pain I caused others was not erased by what little good I had done for the world. And it would be foolish to even think such a thing could be possible.
"Past."
I looked up to find the girl was right in front of me now. She leaned down until she was eye level, her hand beginning to lift towards my face.
"She will only numb your pain, you will never escape me or your past!" He growled glaring at me. I don't care, I'm to infatuated with the beautiful light before me. As her hand touched my cheek, all of my guilt dissipates and a striking revelation on what her name was hits me.
"... Fluttershy."
My eyes slowly open, and I find two arms gently cradling my head, soft sobs motioning them roughly. I groan as I look around to see a revolver on the other side of a the dimly beige carpeted room from where i sat. I feel a hand stroke the back of my head as I give the first truly relaxing sigh of my life. My arms find their way around the slender form covered by a yellow dress lined with butterflies and I embrace her. "Shh, It's ok now."
She pulls away and looks at me, her eyes full of worry and hope. "A- Are you sure you're alright now?"
I smile and nod gently. "Yes Fluttershy, your plan worked." She sits down beside me and I place my arm around her.
"That's good, I'm glad I could help." She laid her head on my shoulder and nuzzles into my neck. I smile down at her and kiss her forehead.
"You have helped more than you could ever know."
(Alright, let's get this out of the way before you rip apart this creative abortion. 1) I had to write this, my head kept going back to this story for got knows what reason. I couldn't think of anything but this for the past two days, so I wrote it just to get it out of my system. No I am not pretentious enough to think I'm a writer who can pull this kind of story off. 2) Now follow me on this, cause it's a weird little OCD tick. I had to upload it, my mind couldn't focus on my other writings with out putting this up to fill your mind with fuck. Needless to say, I don't personally care for it. 3) and lastly, No, you cannot have the last X amount of minutes, or hours if you take along time to read, of your life back for reading this. They are mine now.)