Never Ending Agony

Never Ending Agony

They didn't understand it, no-one did. I wandered if they ever would. It wasn't like anything that had ever happened to them, they couldn't possibly know how it felt.
Helplessness, anger, hate, loneliness... all rolled into one. An unexplained dark cavern somewhere inside me that wouldn't let in a trace of light. I didn't know whether I wanted the light again, it all seemed useless to me now. Useless to someone so alone and small. All that fills my mind is pictures of what happened, although I wasn't there to see, my head could easily imagine that I was. The shiny, metallic blade of the knife, the roughness of the twisted rope, the thick, rose-red that covered the floor. Thinking about these things somehow eased the pain. This petrified me, how something so gruesome and painful could bring peace to me. It felt wrong but there was nothing I could do to change it. I was always told that you can't choose what your feelings are, and up until now I hadn't believed that.
But those who were here didn't know a thing, only she did. She was the only one I could trust, the only one my soul would reach out to for guidance and support. As my soul bled in heartwrenching pain and terror, I knew my calls to her would go unanswered this time. I was doomed to the eternal darkness, alone in the world that I hated so much, in this place too horrific for words to describe.
Effecting me most of all was her loneliness, how she did what we had both dreamed of for years on her own, with only her thoughts with her in those glorious final moments. We had always planned to go together, on our eighteenth year of birth, 'The Beginning Of The End,' our mother once called that day. We intended to live up to those words.
As I lay here in silent thought I sensed that she wanted me there, to share with her our finest moment. Although she loves me dearly, as I well know, she couldn't take this hell like place any more. She wasn't as strong as I. Our hell on Earth, a place of eternal aginy, pain and suffering almost like a flame...the place we knew so well. She had got out, she was free. Although it was what we had both wanted, it didn't feel right. Our brother had called it remorse, but it was more than that. It felt like we were in the wrong place, she is where I am meant to be. I dismissed this thought quickly, pushing it to the eternal depths of my soul never to return.
I cleared my head of all thoughts, as we had taught ourselves to do many years ago, and picked up the silver blade. I had no rope, as she had, but I didn't need it. I placed the smooth, ivory handle in the palm of my hand, and twisted my wrist to the correct angle, an angle that was sure to penetrate in exactly the right place. In the other hand I held her marker, a black biro we were given as children, and I began to write on my stomach. As I wrote, I drove the blade into my heart. In one sharp movement, everything made sense, complete sense. The words I wrote spoke so much truth that they would be remembered and cherished forever........Pain can end in one swift movement..but love is eternal and never ending.