Pain? Point taken.

Looking out the window, past the night sky. Letting the tears fall, one by one. You knew that this was coming, you were sure of it. It was practically over even before any of us said anything. You thought you were ready, you thought you won't cry, but you did, you were not ready to let go, even after all this, you didn't know how. You swore that 3 times, and you are done with, you would let go. But even the third sting, it hurts. The third fall, it hurts. But you told yourself, 'I have to leave, to move on.' Since you had given chances to yourself, after the first mistake of letting go, you gave not him, but yourself plenty of chances, but had been thrown away, and you knew that, very well it would happen. But it still hurts, it still stings, the pain is as good as a physical pain, but physical pain is visible, and would go away once it is well. This pain, this wound will never leave until you know how to make it leave.

Fate? Or Mistake?

Safe to say,
Our life revolves around mistakes.
Whether intentionally,
Or by accident,
Is up to each individual.
It was never a mistake for me to end this,
Because I knew I had enough,
Enough of all the things I thought was true in a relationship.
Breaking off and getting back multiple times a year,
Is just crap.
I wasn't having any regrets about it.
Sad, maybe,
But not regrets.
I was left alone,
Perfectly fine with the shield I was holding up,
Til you came along,
Swept my feet and took down my shield,
Which I gladly give in,
Now,
I am just full of regrets,
Being the reason for it to end.

A Second Chance

*I had problems coming up with stories recently. Writer's block I guess. Here is another one but a whole new different genre. Enjoy!*

 I had enough of the fights between my parents, the constant, daily quarrels, the slaps, the struggles. I had enough of my dad’s abuse to my mother, and to myself. The bruises I see on my mother, the swells I see on myself. The many times my elder brother, Thomas, screamed at my drunken father to stop. The term ‘divorce’ was even coming up. Even in school, I was labeled a freak. Maybe it was because of the long sweaters I wore, the long jackets I was always wearing. The reason for those was just to cover the bruises on my arms. I was long jeans to cover the ones on my legs. When I have any bruises or cuts on my face, I wear long hoodies to cover them. I tried to stay hidden in school, but that idea of mine didn’t work out as I planned.

I was noticed by a sweet boy, Jake. One day, he saw a bad cut on my chin; he brought a first aid kit and helped patch up the cut. He knows about my dysfunctional family. Soon, he and I fell in love despite all the commotion. I thought I was improving, I thought I could live past 18 and move out. But all my thoughts were wrong; I wanted to end it all, that particular night.

I wrote 2 notes, one for Jake, the other for my mother and my brother. I had a bottle of Ambien beside me, and a sharp blade at the side. I popped 2 pills of Ambien, just enough to numb my senses and pain. I took the blade and steady it on my left wrist. I took a deep breath and cut across my wrist. A sudden sharp pain ran across my wrist. The scarlet, ruby red blood oozed out from the wound. The pain was just present for a short while before I drifted into final unconsciousness and fell into my bed.

My eyes flutter opened to a really bright light. I tried to sitting up, but my head was very painful, a really throbbing pain at the back of my head. My sight slowly refocused and I saw a really bright, white room. There was no windows, no doors, no furniture, no carpets, but just four white walls facing me. I felt confused, scared, I didn’t know where I was. I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my left wrist. I brought my left hand to eye level to see what had happened. I saw a thin line on my wrist. Suddenly, I remembered what I was doing. I became even more confused. ‘Where was I? Am I dead? Am I in heaven?’ I kept asking myself those questions over and over.

Suddenly, I felt someone’s hand on my shoulder. “Hey there kiddo…” I turned to see who it was. It was my dead Uncle George. I was so relieved to see someone I know there. “Uncle George!” I hugged him tight. He gave a baritone chuckle and said, “Never thought to see you here, what happened?” Uncle George had passed away two years ago, while fighting with pancreatic cancer. I explained what was I facing, the abuse, the trauma, the pain. I told him I decided to take my life away. He was in deep thought after I was finished. I was still wondering where I was at that moment. “Uncle George, where am I?” I asked. He ruffled my hair, “Well Valerie, it is up to you to decide where you would want to be…” I suddenly thought of a hall filled with many, many books, like a library. At the blink of an eye, I was standing in between two huge rows of shelves full of books. I stood there in awe. “You do still have that interest in books, don’t you…” Uncle George said. I nodded. I walked through the row, with Uncle George beside me. “Hey Valerie, don’t you feel sad leaving you family and friends behind?” I gave a little thought and said, “Yeah, I do miss Thomas and mum, and a little of dad too. But I don’t miss the pain and misery I had been through. And about friends, I don’t have any…” Uncle George looked at me in the eye, and said, “Then what about that boy, Jake? Isn’t he your friend?” I felt myself blush at the sound of his name. “Yeah, he is…maybe, more than a friend…” I smiled to myself. But Uncle George’s face had a very sad look. “But you took your life away from your family and him…” I felt sad right after he said that. Then I told him, “But don’t worry, I will wait for him here. I will wait for my family here too.” I said with a fake happiness in my smile. But Uncle George could see through me. “You know very well that Jake will eventually move on, find another girl, settle down and get married.” I didn’t want to listen to him, but I knew it was the truth. Uncle George shook his head in disappointment.

Uncle George ran his fingers through many books on the shelves until he found a book and passed it to me. I opened it up, and saw a moving photo, like the ones from Harry Potter. I squinted at the photo; it took me a few seconds to realize what I was looking at. I saw myself inside the photo. I was lying on a bed, with an oxygen mask covered my face. I looked like I was sleeping. My left wrist was bandaged up. I was under the drip, with monitors around me, monitoring my heartbeat. I wasn’t a doctor, but I knew my heart rate was rather weak. Then, I saw who was beside me. I saw my mother, holding my hand and crying. I saw my father sitting down beside the window, his head in his hand, crying. Thomas was pacing around, mumbling, clearly to my father. I could make out the words formed in his mouth, “Look what you have done to your daughter? To your beloved daughter!” I felt a tear rolled down from my eyes. I saw another person standing next to my bed too; it took me awhile to understand who it was. It was Jake. He was making paper cranes out of colourful origami paper. He made at least 50 of them. He strung all of them with a thread and tied it above my head. He put a strand of my hair off my pale face and kissed me on the cheek. “Val, hang in there…”

I was crying like crap when I saw that photo. Uncle George put a hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “You still have the chance to go back to your life and sort things out…” I wiped the tears away, “No, I don’t want to go back.” I was serious with my decision. “If that’s so, turn the next page.” I followed his instructions and turned. I was brought to a funeral. I saw my parents crying, my brother Thomas sobbing hard, and Jake, clearly not focusing, being dazed. I didn’t understand what was I seeing, until I saw the body in the casket. I saw myself in there. My hand flew to my mouth in disbelief. I was witnessing my own funeral. Then, the photo vanished and another took place. I saw Thomas going into deep depression. He became so thin and frail. He couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep. He was tormented by nightmares. I felt so hurt looking at him. His once well-built body became so fragile and weak. I wanted to scream at him, asking him to wake up! But then, it was my fault he became like this. The next photo took me to Jake. Jake couldn’t sleep well every night, waking up every single night, crying. His face looked so sunken in, with bad eye bags under his eyes. After that, the next photo showed me my parents. They aren’t talking anymore, both of them keeping quiet, secluded in their own world, but I know very well, that they are not alright. I cried uncontrollably at the sight of all of them.

Uncle George closed the book and took it away from my hands. Suddenly, we were both back where I first was, the windowless, doorless room. “Valerie, are you ready to go home?” he asked. I shook my head and said, “But I am home. I am in the place where all the angels and saints are. Where God is staying.” This time, Uncle George shook me, hard. “This is not heaven! Child, this is not what you think it is! This is a place where people who had taken their life away from God because of all the hurdles and obstacles on earth.” I was confused. In between the sobs and tears, I managed to croak out, “Will I ever go into heaven?” He shook his head sadly. “No, you won’t. You wouldn’t meet your parents, you wouldn’t meet Thomas, and you wouldn’t meet Jake anymore.” I felt my knee grow weak. I fell to the ground. I sat there sobbing. “Why? Why can’t I go into heaven? Why can’t I meet my family again? Why?” I cried pitifully. Uncle George sat down beside me, and explained, “People who had taken their own life before their actual time will go stay at a place, unknown to them, lonely and quiet. Because they didn’t know that it was the consequences of killing one’s self. They didn’t know how selfish it is for them to take their own life away from their family and friends. Their family will be sad and heartbroken, their friends will be very upset, but do you know who will be the one who will be grieving for the loss of their life?” he asked. He wiped the tears off my eyes. I shook my head. “God will be the one be crying the most. God made you in the image of himself, he named you, and also, he had written how your life will be if you had chosen the right path. He had written all of that down into the tiniest detail ever possible. By killing yourself, you had disrupted the journey of your life. It is not God’s choice for people to go to heaven; it is the person’s own choice.” Uncle George hugged me tight while I cry. I felt the wound of my left hand hurt again, that burning sensation in it. Uncle George asked me for the third time, “Valerie, do you want to go home?” I sobbed. I opened my mouth, trying to speak, but nothing came out. I just nodded desperately.

Uncle George looked at me in the eye, wiped my tears one last time. “My friend here is going to bring you back home. Take care, ‘kay? Don’t do anything stupid from now on. We will meet again the next time.” He gave me a cheeky grin which I smiled. He took my hand and gave it to an unknown man. I couldn’t see his face, but at the touch of his hand, I knew who he was, he was Christ. “Bye kiddo, see you soon.” That was the last I heard from Uncle George.

The next thing I felt was just serenity. I felt someone hugging me tightly, not wanting to let me go. But he had to. He let go of his embrace, whispered, ‘I love you’ into my ear, and let me fall. It felt like my heart was going to come out of me any second, but I know that I was safe. Soon, I felt a huge pain in my left arm and in my head, nausea flooding through my senses. I tried opening my eyes, fluttering them. My vision wasn’t focused. But after a couple of blinks, I could see. I saw, everything. I saw my mother, my father, Thomas, and Jake. Mum was crying waterfalls; Dad had this huge smile on his face. Jake was happy I was finally back, he took my good hand and kissed it. Thomas was frantically calling the doctors. I knew that things had changed for the better. I smiled with my face under the oxygen mask.

I was examined by the medical team, and was told I was away from the danger zone. After a month in the hospital, I was certified well and a clean bill of health, enough to go home. When I got home, everything had changed. Dad stopped drinking and went for anger management therapies. Thomas was going to study to be a lawyer in the city. Mum and Dad decided to give their marriage another go, trying to salvage whatever left. I was happy with the change, all was happy. As for me, I also had my happy ending, or sort of? Jake and I graduated high school, went into the same college and university. I met new people there who became my best friends. Jake and I began dating throughout the years in university. At our senior year, Jake proposed to me. We were engaged and got married right after we finished university. I have a beautiful daughter Katie, and another baby boy coming on its way. Every night before I sleep, I pray. I would stand by Katie’s crib and thank Uncle George, for not giving up on me and continued to tell me to go home, I prayed to God for giving me that precious second chance to live again. If I hadn’t taken the offer, I wouldn’t know what had happened if I had continue living. I thank God, for that second chance.