Discord

Discord
I was, as I understood, part of this reality. That which I could not explain, did not need explanation. I lived by what the world force-fed me. Starved of truth and forced to apathy since early childhood. Now perched atop the high-rise, my mind wondered from roof-top to roof-top, in slight stagnation with my eyes. The view overwhelmed me, the sheer disgust and lament it formed in my soul… the so called “progress” of man. This separation, this discord I felt, was not a foreign sensation. Rather, benign it had been, for many years… content to let me sleep in the shallow waters of sameness. This revolting thing we call society… human nature… all euphemisms for a boldfaced lie.
The lie, at a time, had consumed me. I had embodied it, approached it like a moth to flame… unannounced to me… a suicide of the individualistic soul… a “sacrifice” for the “common good.” The colt in my right hand, I felt the barrel with my left… still warm. Recently discharged.
Discord.
I was empty of emotion. Still, a cognitive dissonance persisted, taking from me my solace. I rose my arm, took aim… the body nothing more than blood and veins. My hand, no longer shaking… I discharged the entire clip. Bam, Bam, Bam! Click, Click, Click! The dead man was reanimated with each blow, tortured brutally… mocked. He deserved every shot.
Still, peace eluded me… my mind a torn battle-space. The ideology of the dead mocked my every move. Damn it… out, out of my head! I raised the gun to my mouth, bit the barrel (it was still warm) and pulled the trigger… Click. In my own frustration I had not allotted for escape. I needed, I craved death… I had to give my assailant suit. I looked back to the body… it faded. I leapt off the high-rise.
No flashes of past experiences were granted to me as I plummeted to the concrete. I hit hard, but felt no pain. Flip. Awake. Discord. My other reality… my other-world. Could I define death? Not without the inescapable comment on life. I live, therefore I die. Life’s contradiction. So why shouldn’t there be an alternate life… not an after life, but an other-world? Try to understand. I had unlocked the key to survival long ago. Our essence is immortal. I landed myself behind the eyes of another. I could not control, I had no out of body conscience… I could merely exist through another’s eyes. My last vehicle had been a cold hearted killer. I feel everything they feel, see everything they see, but their prerogative is their own. I float, and then when death comes, I flip.
So you see now, why I can not define myself. I am not lucid, rather ambiguous. I am who I am at the present moment that I am. Now, I am a female, young, beautiful and she knows it… and I am talking in a group of people. I infer they are my friends… my mind tells me that these are my friends… they don’t look like friends to me. My essence slowly settled into its new frame. It’s cold. Bleak, like New England… with an air of fog and cloud. Distortion… my vision blurs.. my head hurts. I know that feeling… a hangover. I had been drinking the night before. My mind denies the fact but my body can not. I am.
Our location, outside a school… not so different from what one would expect of a high school. A car drives up… wheels spinning too fast, rap blaring out the window. I liked it… my essence… the part of me that lived after death, was revolted. This caused a slight hesitation on the part of my host self. I opened the door to the car and climbed in. Dark. The car was dark, blind hate and ignorance running through my ears. The politically correct be dammed. Driver was black, dew rag, punk. Drove off… the smell of smoke in the car.
“Where you been?”
“Out.” I heard myself say. He looked at me for a moment, then handed me cigarettes. I lit up. Damn, 15 years old and already addicted. Not that I cared… my life was my own and I would do what I wanted with it. Discord. All throughout my mind… two selves… the subconscious resentment I felt for my newfound host, and the primary subconscious… my own ignorance and rebelliousness. Split in two, yet existing in one… a veritable train wreck inside my mind.
We were in a house… no one else there. He held me… God, get this man away… the sick undergrowth of life. He stripped me, my innocence lost. No… no… I don’t want this… but my body begged for more. My rebellious nature needed it, desperately, thoughts of betrayal ran through my mind as I was abused… taken, and thrown out. Only 15.
I looked down at my wrists. Scared… thoughts of hopeless ran through my mind. I should have been happier, but now I was only ashamed. I promised myself to wait, but I broke that promise in rebellion. I walked home on a back street, through an alleyway. I cooked up the story there… he had raped me. I reported it to the police in mock tears… not wanting to take blame for consequences. I gave my statement and went home for the night. I never woke up. Flip.
I landed in a lonely male’s mind. Staring at black and white… headlines… “Teen Murdered After Reporting Rape.” Vague recollections of surprise, rebellion, hurt and pain. I sipped my coffee, glancing at the next headline “Man Finds Caveman… Over 300,000 Years Old.” Eyes continue to skim the page… indifferent.
Standing now… apparently off to work… apathetic… working for no reason other than work. Money was not an issue… I had family and was willing to leach off of them. It was a matter of pride that I did not, I hated work, but I did it to keep my mind off other, darker things.