Post by Mako Fujita on May 29, 2017 4:45:38 GMT -5
WARNING: Mention of suicide, depression, murder, sexual and physical abuse, as well as other adult themes.
How many days had passed like this .. he wasn't really sure, anymore. Senseless pain, endless suffering, there was nothing in his life that was really worth getting up every morning .. there was only fear. Fear that he would be hurt today. Fear that his father would take him again. Fear that someone would attack him and add to his pain. Fear that a hollow would attack. Fear that he'd not be able to eat today. Fear that he'd fall ill. It was never ending, it never stopped, and from that uncontrollable fear- came to a desire for it all to end. He was so tired of it .. tired of everything. He didn't enjoy anything- he didn't want to do anything- he was too scared to try and free himself. No one would care if he was gone, of that, he knew for a fact- he was just another scrap in the slums, even his father wouldn't miss him, except perhaps missing his "toy" that was used to relieve stress.
These thoughts had led him here.
There was a nice cliff, a few miles from the slums, it had what he imagined was a nice view- though he wasn't really sure. He'd never heard anyone actually tell him what something that looked "nice" really was- but he knew everyone said he was ugly, a mangy slum rat, disgusting, worthless. If something nice was the opposite of himself, then it made sense a place like this was nice. A soft bed of moss and flowers decorating its ridge, a perfect, soft seat for him to rest on- a view over the expanses of forestry with a large set of sharp fallen rocks at the bottom. The sun hadn't risen yet .. he'd run away from the house (if you could call it that) before his father had awoken today. He would pay for that later .. but that didn't matter, after all, he wasn't going back.
That thought made the young man's eyes slowly lower- examining the rocks below .. would it be poetic, to do it as the sun rose? He wasn't really sure, he didn't really care either. He was just trying to stall. He didn't want to die. But he was so tired .. the fear was screaming at him, clawing at the back of his skull, even as his face remained blank, expressionless. He could never show his feelings, never show his thoughts. Complaining meant pain. Showing emotion meant pain. Smiling meant pain. Crying meant pain. If he was blank, silent, then at least he didn't get hurt as much.
But did that really matter? If it was going to end here then he could probably smile, and be happy the pain was finally going to end, right?
Despite that, he couldn't bring himself to smile. Unable to even blink, he sat in silent- staring at the horizon, the sunrise was approaching .. was he going to do it then? Or was he going to keep letting the fear control him? He was so tired of being afraid .. he was so tired of his fears being justified as everything went wrong, again, and again. But his legs wouldn't move.
Even as the sun began to slowly rise, even as its rays began to wash over the cliff, catching the edges of the grass, moss, and flowers- igniting them in its golden flames and glow .. he couldn't stand. He was glued to the spot he sat in, frozen in terror. He didn't want to die- but what other choice was there? He couldn't fight, train, read, write, he wasn't special in any way. There was nothing in him, no drive, no ambition to try .. he'd never felt anything like that- he'd always just wanted to quietly sit back and just have a peaceful life all alone. But fate had not been so kind.
These thoughts would make a normal person cry, he supposed .. but there was nothing inside him. It wasn't sad to him. It was just there .. it was the way that life worked- he was weak, he was scared, useless, and as such- he was reaping what he sowed. He knew this, he knew if he changed perhaps his life would too, and yet he couldn't find the drive, the desire- to bother. He felt like his hands should tighten at that thought, he should be frustrated- he'd seen others get frustrated. Angry at their position, at their failure, at everything that had gone wrong.
He was envious of those people. People that were able to care about something so much that it hurt to lose it.
But there was something wrong with him .. he was a defunct human being with nothing like that. He didn't care when someone else died. He didn't care when someone was born- there was nothing in him but a void .. a void of fear. Despite how useless he was .. despite hating himself, hating everything, everyone that could smile, that could be happy, that could be sad, that could care- despite knowing he was a broken person that had no real reason to live.
.. Why couldn't he bring himself to jump?
Somehow, he'd managed to rise, standing at the precipice- staring at the rocks below that he knew would spell his end, it would be quick- at worst he'd bounce a few times and suffer for thirty to sixty seconds. A minute of suffering at the worst, compared to a useless, hollow life ruled by fear. It was such an easy decision. So why couldn't he jump? Why did terror hold him in place, fearing death? He didn't have the instincts of an animal, he knew that too well- or he wouldn't be in this situation. This wasn't animal instinct, he just didn't want to die. The fear of dying, the fear of the unknown- of what it held .. he supposed that was the only normal thing about him. Why did it have to be that one thing? He just wanted it to end, so why couldn't he do it?
This is where he rested. Unmoving, staring down at the bottom of the cliff, standing at its edge with his hands held limply at his sides. Trying to will himself forward .. but he was a coward. He didn't know how to stand against the fear, he didn't know how to leap into that darkness and allow it to welcome him into its sweet embrace.
He was scared. But he knew- no one would come and save him.
Kind people like that didn't actually exist. They only existed in fairy tales, in reality- no one wanted to help you. When people are put in dire straights .. they only look out for themselves.
Tags: Moriko Abe
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