\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2316762-Stumble
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Dark · #2316762
A cry for help, a cry for home
It was a moment of weakness, a low point in the depths of loneliness as I sat there one room away, not realizing what I had, and how lucky I was to still have a place in your life. But then again, I had to succumb to a sickness that infects the brain, and caused me to become detached from reality.
I have lost track of my thoughts, my head and my heart, the essence that makes me who I am. I am struggling to keep my head above water, to catch my breath, and to remain human.
I try not to think what I might have done, how this all could have ended, and the aftermath of what would have been the worst decision I would have made in my life. I want to live. I want to thrive, but something holds me back
I hold me back.
I can’t seem to let go.
I cry out for help, as I am the only one who hears my voice. I want to tell you what is happening, but the shame and the fear of my thoughts keeps me from opening up. I scream, but my voice turns to dust as it hits the air.
And as I sit here, the walls between us grow higher. My cheeks moisten with what little fluid I have left to give. I have rotted from the inside out, and my soul has left us long ago.
Where I am now, I do not know. Physically I am here. Mentally, I checked out long ago.
And now, as I seek to come back, I can not find the path that will take me home tonight.
I want to come back, to live again, to be a part of what we were, but fear that we can never be that way again.
I stumble through the dark, hoping to find my way, yet it is easy to get turned around.
I trip over the roots of trees, twist my ankles in the digits of rotting spots.
And yet some how I seem to get back up on my feet.
I drift, back and forth across the forest floor, stumbling and crawling in search of the way out, a light through the trees, a beacon calling me home. But the dark is all encompassing, and I am blinded by my own selfishness.
I rest. I am weary. I do not know if I can go any further at the moment.
But I shall get up, and with one foot in front of the other, find my way back to you.
© Copyright 2024 Turtle ~ KanyáthƐko:wa:h (marnts at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2316762-Stumble