Flow

Flow

         The boy sat in the corner of the shower, watching himself swirl around the drain and then be eventually sucked down into that darkness. He could feel the darkness, see it, taste it, smell it. It crept into the corners of his vision and he reached up to clear it, thinking it was hair. But it would not go away. He frantically waved his hand in front of his face, trying to clear the darkness. He sighed and lowered his hand, realizing what it was. Panic left him slowly and his breathing returned to normal. The darkness had slowed to a crawl across his view of the window through the glass of the shower door. He could see the pine trees sway in the wind, the grey clouds hanging overhead. He raised his hand and waved to the trees.
         Good-bye. He thought. He looked down at himself. Luckily he had the water running and the blood would be washed away, leaving his body clean of that red stain. He raised his head and looked at the light. He closed his eyes and waited.
         And waited.
         Eventually he drifted off, loss of blood making him lose consciousness. He dreamed. It was the first time in a long time, too. He dreamt that he was standing with his parents when they found him. They stood sullenly by the shower door as the coroner loaded him onto a gurney, not a tear shed.
         Why? Why weren’t they sad, he wondered, not really caring but thinking it all the same. He was happy for this in a way, happy that it wouldn’t disrupt their lives much. But sad at the same time. I wish I’d said good-bye to my friends, he thought, oh well.
         Then he was awake, not jostled to life by a paramedic or a parent, but by the sudden loss of heat and pressure in the water.
         “Oh God that’s cold!” He rasped. He raised a hand to his neck, the blood had stopped somehow. He decided to get up and clean himself off, which he did. He stood at the mirror and inspected the ragged wound. “Ouch…” He whispered. “Well…that’s it, that didn’t work, I’m not trying again.” He picked a sweatshirt with a high collar to wear and plodded down the hall, waving to his mother, who had just come home.