in case you are bored, i give you a time filler. enjoy my short story I feel the warmth of the morning sun on my cheek as I wake. I pull back the down comforter I hear you exhale. The soft sound of your breath reminds me that you are there. Then suddenly, the feeling of resentment fills and takes over me. The solar heat is taking over by blood boiling on the flesh under my eyes; my ears burn bright red. Why are you still here? Why do you fill my morning with fury; mixed feelings of life and your death? I turn away with disgust and yet your image haunts my mind leaving me with feelings of despair knowing you are still alive. I move rapidly to rinse my face with cool waters from the ceramic bowl in my washroom. The bitter water brings my boil to a comfort; and yet my ease yields as I wipe the water from my eyes to see you standing there, glancing at me with expressions of annoyance. Why would you be annoyed when it is I who can not stand to be in your presence? Thoughts of taking the color from your insipid flesh enter my mind. Thoughts of watching you breathe your last breath capture my thoughts and I grin. NO! I can not think these thoughts, I think to myself so you will not hear me think. I must go. Yes, that is it; I will go for a stroll to rid myself of these thoughts. Maybe if I were to perspire my anger will subside and my mind will not think thoughts of taking life, but loving it, caring for it, wishing well upon those, even as they bring my nerves to an unsteady state. Yes a long afternoon walk in the park where I can feel the warmth from the sun upon my face. There in the park I will lay and inhale the scent of growing flowers and cut grass to ease my nerves. I move towards the corridor of my dwelling and I hear you follow. Why? Why must you follow me? I am befuddled by your desire to be next me. I have made no attempts to show you love; anger is all I have, only anger. I turn from you and with haste I make my way out onto the cobblestone avenues of my noble city. As I come to the open air the radiance of the sun begins comfort to the flesh of my neck and face; the feeling so soothing and calming I forget about the killing urge from earlier. I make my way to the park at the corner; and I am blanketed by loneliness, I can hear the leaves break underneath me as I walk. The faint sound of televisions from the other residences; sound so bleary it only sounds like soft moans. Window shutters slightly move in the dead wind. The heat from the surface warms my body from bottom up as I walk the avenue heading to the park. Why are the streets so deserted? The sun shows it is well into the afternoon; and yet only one soul seems to have made it out of his flat to enjoy the solar heat. I quickly turn around and there you are. Has god damned me today? Has he set me up for insanity? I can feel my mind splitting into many other minds. Multiple conversations take place within me, as if I am more then just me. I feel the anger grow; one tells me run from you and the other says take your life. I think, will that be enough or will you rise and continue to vex me, tormenting me; taking my mind from me, destroying me from the inside. Why can’t you just leave me to deal with my madness? I do not think I would be mad if you were to withdraw. I turn from you and scuttle towards the park. I turn to see the distance I have made from you; and there you are, so close one would think you were attached to my foot. I scurry into the park and look for a dark place where you may not be able to find me. The heat leaves my face as the umbra of the trees block the sun. I leap through the trees and over small bushes I turn and you are not there. I have lost you in the shade. I find refuge on the branch of a large oak tree. I sense you are close; I feel my paranoia finally taking over? The rustling sounds of leaves under the branch cause me to hold my breath. Is it you? Do you know I am here? Have you found me? I thought I was so careful to go unnoticed when I climb the big oak. The sound of a breath carries to my ear was that me taking a quick breath or was it you finally winded and now going to leave me alone. Stray from me, for the next time I lay my eyes upon you I may take away your life; I may take from you your last breath. Darkness has come. The oak tree has become a dark figure in the night. I have become part of its life, my body camouflaged against its bark. I am at ease, the voices gone from my mind; and you are no where to be found. It has been hours since the horizon has taking the sun from us. Not a single soul has come by. Not a single voice has carried over through the wind. I am filled with pains of hunger and thirst. I opt to climb down and make my way back to my flat. The streets are dark the cobblestones are filled with water on the edges and creases. The smell of pollution, which the rain dragged down from the sky with it, fills the air. The wind is alive in the dark night; leaves blow past me giving life and sound to the moonless night. Soft moans still fill the air from the televisions of other flats; the light from the televisions peek through curtains giving me enough light to walk the avenue. Fear is still at the edge of each nerve in my body. The sense of eeriness takes over me, as I begin to think if you are hiding behind a dark corner ready to pounce on me at any giving opportunity. My head swivels back and forth as I carefully make my way back to my flat; there is no need for a midnight chase. I enter the corridor to my residence, the corridor is without light. I feel a presence of another being in the corridor with me. Is it you? Is it my paranoia? Am I becoming mad with the very thought of encountering you again. Kill. Take the last breath from this person. A voice in me speaks. It speaks to loud; did you hear it? Do you no know of my falsehearted plan to take your life, to take your breath? The light under the doors of the other residences gives me hope to see that you are not there. I spot a sole of a shoe and a dark silhouette filling the shoe; is it you? Does this sole in fact belong to you? I shimmy my feet forward getting closer to you, a breath is taking; was it from me or the dark outline before my eyes? My mind leaves me and I am traveling into the world of psychosis; voices commanding me in my head to kill, to run and charge at the figure. What do I do? Which voice shall be my commander; my leader; my god? I run for my door thrusting my arm forward towards the figure to try and throw it off from where it stands before it can assault me first. My arm is quickly stopped by the flat, paneled wall being held in place by two by four wooden studs. I open my door and turn on the mud room light to bright you to plain sight so that I may take from you your last breath; and as the corridor becomes luminous all I see one shoe of and a wall. The wall had a bit of mold on it, which gave the appearance of a silhouette in the unlit corridor. A sigh of relief fills my body once again. My heart steadies and I no longer perspire. Is the nightmare over? I still hear voices commanding me, yet I do not know why they are commanding me to take your life from you. I fear not the worst for you are not in my presence, only in my thoughts, and I can always kill a thought by forgetting it. I lay down to take rest; my body feels torn and worn, I don’t even remove my attire. I fall into a deep slumber; my mind begins to create images and they are placed them into sequence. I do not dream, I mold into insanity. A blanket of nightmarish images of you distressing me is all I can see in this sequence of images. I run from you but not fast enough, I can feel your breath upon me; the scent of your soft insipid flesh overwhelms me. I try to scream but only silence slips from my tongue. I thrash at you and your flesh turns to mist only to reform and come forth at me again and again. Why can’t I wake from these images in my mind? Why can’t I take your last breath from you, to rid of you, to bring peace to my mind and soul? Why? I wake suddenly, the sheets around me drenched with sweat; my heart beats as though it was having seizures from the stress my body had gone through, dreaming of you. I rise from the bed and try to stand; my legs weak from exhaust I almost collapse. I go to the water basin in the bathroom feeling my way through the darkness for the water and begin to rinse the sweat from my brow. This all seems too familiar. It almost seems like this has become a custom for me. Everyday I wipe the sweat from my brow. Everyday I wake, I wake to you’re the sound of your breath. Why should I have to go through this ordeal everyday? Why? I am my own person and I need not have to deal with this for the rest of the days I breathe God’s good air. I reach for the light, and as the electricity passes through the bulb to allow it to illuminate, I begin to see your figure come to life. You are there, again. I reach for the blade I use to bring my face to a smooth state and I slash at you. I cut at the bend of your hand spilling blood from you. Your screams do not even bring me to a halt. I slash at your forearms, making sure the cuts are deep enough that even a doctor with the steadiest hands could not stitch you back to life. My fury stops. The sounds of loud drums pound from my chest. I look at your flesh turn from an off white tone to blue. The cold from your body fills the room, even my flesh gets cold. I no longer feel anger; I no longer feel stress. The killing urge has been fulfilled. I watch you as your eyes close. I take a seat looking away from you. The room darkens, I do not know why, shadows is all I see. My chest rises and falls as I gasp for air, exhausted from the thrashing I gave you no doubt. Then my ears tune in to the noise in the room, your breath. I listen till I can hear no more. I have taking my last breath. By: Edward Michaels
Posted on: Fri, 18 Oct 2013 02:17:27 +0000
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