Escape to Oblivion
A personal experience of pain and suffering.
I took the knife put it’s cool blade over and across the warm skin of my wrist. I know what you’re thinking that this girl is suicidal. But no I am not. You can take my word for it or not but it is up to you to decide but before you do here me out.
If you could change a day would you? If you could wipe away what you did would you? If you could re-do a choice you made, would you?
I fought with her numerous times but this one is the worst. I cannot control my anger anymore. Everything I did was perceived to be wrong. I admit I have temper issues. Not the most patient one nor the most cheerful one in the block. I am ruled by my own emotions and with issues I can’t seem to tell anyone. However, I never thought that there would come a day that the basin would be full enough to spill water on the ground. That the well would run dry. But it did. I will not tell you the reason of our fight. You can tell me that I am a coward for not telling you the reason, afraid to be judge by anyone. That is not the case at all. Truth be told, the reasons are best left to the people who are concern. Furthermore, I am not here to gather allies nor ask for pity but I am here to tell you about a truth that I have currently opened my eyes to.
It was already 1:00 AM in the morning. I wanted to shout at her but I can’t, afraid our parents would wake up. We fought with words with reasons that neither of us are willing to hear nor accept. Our pride was at the peak. I cried and cried left our room to stay to the other room. After awhile I returned. I don’t know what has got into me but I did. But I found the door locked. I knocked as hard as I could she opened. I went inside. Realized I could not find my phone I rummage my bed with stream of tears falling from my eyes. I could not control it. I was mad. Frustrated at how a simple thing turned me into a monster I no longer recognize. I left again to search for that missing phone. I found it at last. I fumbled in the dark and returned to my room but found it lock again. I knocked hard. She remained deaf. I sat on the floor cried my eyes out. I realized I needed to find the key. I turned on the light, grab the key and tried to unlock the door but it doesn’t budge open. Frustrated even more I threw the key to the door, picked it up returned to the drawer and cried until finally I could not cry anymore. I wanted to scream to take away that pain I thought was impossible. Then I turned around opened the drawer grab the knife and placed it against my wrist then the door opened and I was not able to do what I wanted to do. No. Not suicide. Rather rewind the events.
I thought that unconsciousness could take away the pain; could stop my heart from bleeding; could make me forget and redo everything. But I was not thinking of death. All I was thinking was unconsciousness my great escape plan. If I could hold my breath and make things go away I would. If I could bleed away my pain I would. If I could lose myself for a moment enough to erase what was right in front of me now, I would. I fought with her and I could no longer escape the pain unless I was in a state of unconsciousness so that when I wake up it will all seem like a dream.
But I realized, there is no number of breaths that I could hold enough to make things go away. No amount of blood is enough to bleed away the pain. No amount of unconsciousness is enough to erase what is right in front me. There is no escape. Not from her. Not from the pain. Rather than escape I must summon my courage enough to make me stand, make me strong to face the consequences of my own choice. I would not be a coward again. Never again will I run.