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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1053603-Am-I-dead
by Oana
Rated: 18+ · Monologue · Other · #1053603
I sometimes ask myself if I am just a dream or if I truly exist...
It is a really cold night. I’m lying dead in front of my window and no one notices it. I can see myself sitting as usually, staring coldly at the three trees in front of my house. I was just looking for something, which I still haven’t found. I don’t remember what it was… But now I feel more peaceful. I don’t want to search for it anymore, whatever it was. Now I am just curios to find out what I was desperately trying to encounter. I recall I was looking for it all my life. I was searching, I was yearning, aching, longing for it… but I don’t know what it was.
I don’t feel anything anymore. I could see in my eyes the excruciating pain which tore me apart, which devastated me; it ate me on the inside like cancer… The pain found itself a perfect host in me, just as a parasite, feeding out of my tears, my suffering and my misery. It ate me alive, and now it came back to haunt me while I’m dead... but it’s useless. It destroyed every bit of me on the inside, every little hope I had, every thought of a fresh new beginning. The only thing that was fresh was the pain; it got fresher and fresher, younger and younger, renewed… while I was felling older and older, useless, unworthy of anything. I am not sorry or sad for dying, for being dead; I don’t feel pity when I look at my motionless body. I feel… nothing, that’s perhaps because nothing really changed. Actually, it has, but only for the better. I left everything inside of my body… I left my feelings over there. Here, outside it is better. I always wondered how does it feel like to feel nothing at all, and now I know. It feels better than feeling anything at all.
I don’t regret I’m dead. Anyway, I think I was deader when I was alive… only a dead walking shell of human being who was constantly fighting with itself, who wished not to feel… so that it would pretend it’s still alive. Well, I don’t feel now! And yet, I can’t pretend I’m alive. I don’t want to. What’s the point in doing that? Why should I lie to myself? I don’t care anymore. I am unable to care and now I am aware of that. I know I can’t care and I don’t care…
I couldn’t help noticing that my wounds didn’t even get to heal completely. Before I left my body, I saw my heart torn apart; I saw everything was still in deep pain… The sick unhealthy blood, the blood that was left in me was pouring out from my wrists. It still is. I wonder how much do I have left in me. It’s dripping everywhere. I see a little drop falling slowly… Oh, I wish I could catch it before it stains the white carpet, my white carpet! It is so white… so clean. I wish I could straighten things up! I wish I could clean up all this mess! But I can’t.
I try to reassure myself telling me it’s not that bad. Besides, the only time I was living even when I was alive was in my memories, in my mind… in my imagination. I only thought about the past, so that I could live in the present. The future didn’t exist for me…
At least now, I know something will happen. It must. I know I won’t be standing here watching my dead body forever… won’t I? This thought is much more terrifying than death itself. I laughed in the face of death. I told it I can decide when it’s time to go… and I was right... But what now? What will I do from now on?
I won’t be able to see them when they take my body away… I can’t bear to look at this window forever. I can’t see my loved ones’ faces when they’ll see me. I can’t.
I don’t want to see them suffering. I know I’m selfish but I don’t want to see that. I still don’t know why. I forgot how guilt feels; I don’t know what remorse is… I have no idea how pain feels anymore. I’m not numb, I’m… dead. But with all this, I still won’t be able to watch them.
I’m not strong enough, and I know they aren’t either.
Some people may think I was weak for doing what I did, but I know it proved I was strong, courageous… somehow. I was strong enough to die, but not strong enough to live. And now I know I’m not strong enough to be dead either.
I still don’t remember what was I searching for my whole life and this makes me more certain that I found it once and then lost it, or else… how could I be so sure it exists?
I can see it in my eyes. I had it once. It was there and I wanted it back badly.
I’m afraid to go deeper, I’m afraid to search inside of me, where I should have looked in the first place. I don’t want to know because it won’t matter anymore. It will be in vane.
I’m really not interested in searching for it, I just wanted to find out what it was, but until I find it, I know it’s impossible to tell that.
So many unanswered questions! And so many answers for unasked questions! Isn’t this world strange? It has a bitterly ironic flavor in it too.
People pass by my window and they don’t even realize I’m dead. Don’t they see the blood?! Are all of them blind?! Uncaring?! Can’t they see my hands?! Or my face?! Or even the pain pouring out if me (to replace the blood which is over)?! No, I guess they can’t. They are more uncaring than I am, but at least I am dead. I can use this excuse, so that I won’t recall how guilt feels like…
Look at my three trees! Their leaves turned into brown with copper red shades and beginning to fall… Their barks are getting darker, blacker as if they’re in mourning for me. Rain begins to fall… tears fall from they’re leaves down on the earth. I know they wished this rain as well as I did. My trees didn’t want to let me know they’re crying… my trees didn’t want to let me see they will soon die without me. But they die only to get reborn in the spring. I die… and that’s it. It is over. They feel it, they know it… my only companions during all of my suffering and searching, my only true friends; never lying, never being unfaithful to me.
I wish I could only touch them once more… Suddenly I hear noises. Someone’s entering my room. No!!! Please, give me my life back or kill me again!!!! Kill me forever! Take me away! I don’t want to face this! I want to be able to turn my head around, to close my eyes, to shut my ears, but… I don’t have a body anymore. A powerful force doesn’t let me go. I’m a prisoner and I am forced to witness it all. I am forced to watch this whole tragedy happening all over again, like I have replayed it a hundred times before in my mind… This time it’s the real thing. True people, live people, living, suffering, crying… It’s too much for me! This is hell and I am punished to remain in here forever. I will see my loved ones’ faces until the end of time.
I am terrified. I can not think. I will be awful and I can’t handle it. Perhaps I have feelings after all. Perhaps I left behind just a corpse… perhaps I was just fooling myself, just lying to myself so that I could keep that state of total numbness, stillness, deadness.
And what I was afraid of… just happened. A horrid scream and… they saw me. They finally noticed I was dead. Desperate cries, tears... pain everywhere… more vivid than anything in that room. Each time they scream I am torn apart; with each one of their innocent tears a knife stabs me… I cry, I shout, I feel bruised and hurt all over… I can feel and I knew it all the time, I knew it all along. Oh, how I wish I could ease their pain! How I wish I could touch their faces, wipe their tears… I wish I could give them a hug, a friendly caress and make them forget about me… convince them to let it go… lie to them that I feel better now, that I’m much happier and I did the right thing. How I need to do all that and much more! I want to help them, because I know it is the only thing that would help me. I need to reassure everyone that I’m all right… but I can’t even do that for myself. I’m dead, how could things be all right?! This echoes into my head… each time louder and clearer than the other time… ‘I’m dead, how could things be all right?!’ … Did I ever expect them to be all right after dying? How could I be so stupid? How could I be so obviously wrong? So mistaken? I should have known better.
Suddenly I realized it was getting rather quiet. My body was put in a beautiful black coffin. I lied on white satin. It was still opened and everyone was watching me still. The silence broke when they all began crying again… A lovely white rose was standing, also dead, cut off too young, beside me… I looked once more down there at myself. I and the rose were so alike! Both cut off so young… so innocent and fragile, both looking so pale… so, sad and hurt. I saw they washed my bloody hands and put two white ribbons around my wrists so that the wounds would be hidden. But it was useless… I’m sure everyone saw the deep pain, the wounds, the cuts, everything in my wide open eyes…
Silence installed once more.
I watched them while they were watching me… They all gathered around my coffin. Not one word spoken. The silence said everything. It transmitted their pain, their grief… everywhere. The room radiated with grief. I was just listening to the irregular and disorganized beatings of their harts, to their deep long breaths and sighs… After a short while I only heard one strong heart beating... they didn’t realize it, but for a moment, for one second, when they all looked at me, with their tears rushing down their cheeks, all their hearts beat in the same time. They looked into each other’s eyes and then at me… they smiled bitterly, sadly… Never have I seen such a sad, painful smile. Well, maybe they realized it too.
I was the bond that connected them again. I didn’t untie anything. I re-tied it. I just strengthened the knot… creating a more powerful bond.
Before they began talking about me, one of them, He, came close, kissed my pale cheek… Oh, it was such a warm kiss. Although I wasn’t there, I felt it! How I felt it! I never felt anything like that. It still burns my cheek… I still feel where the warm soft lips fell gently on my skin, where they touched it… in a caressing, kind way… it was a kiss filled with pain, combined with love… a tear gently fell from his cheek on my upper lip. I can feel its taste. A little bit salty, but burning, just like the kiss. Burning with all the pain, the suffering, the love… He saw the tear and wiped it gently with his soft hand. He kissed me again. This time his lips touched mine and it was unforgettable… It still is so painful! His kisses hurt. I could see they hurt him, as badly as they hurt me. I never knew kisses could harm us… but they did. He then took my hand, looked at it… wanted to kiss it, but somehow knew it would be much too painful for both of us. He just stared at me for a while with blurry eyes… I kept thinking that now the only memory of me will be this one. I will be in his mind lying there still, in a fog created by pain, by tears… He was holding my hand so softly, as if not to break me, as if I was a porcelain doll which should be treated so very delicately. Finally he found enough strength to let go of my hand… I knew that meant he let go for ever. But I wish I could only feel his burning kisses forever… his hand holding mine…
And then, I just felt like I’m not there anymore… like I’m not that close to them as I was a few minutes before… I was still able to see his hand gently caressing my forehead, I saw everybody watching me breathless, tearless, and again, I heard only one heart beating… Then, in that instant, I just realized that… that was what I was looking for. That was what I’ve been searching for all of my life. Tears flooded my eyes, but then… before I got the chance to look at everybody once more, I saw his hand coming down my forehead and gently closing both my eyes. A mixture of happiness and sadness covered me… It was the white satin. I heard the coffin door closing but I wasn’t able to see anything anymore. I saw nothing except darkness and I felt far away from them… but I finally found out what was I frantically looking for… what did I dreadfully, frenetically wanted and for what I sacrificed everything… I did all this just to obtain it, and now I am happy… or at least I should be. But still… the darkness is deep, the silence even deeper… I’m all alone… what will happen next? I try again, involuntarily, out of impulse, to open my eyes. Unbelievable! I succeed! Still, I’m scared of what I would see… I close them again, quickly. I stay a while, impatient to see, yet petrified at the thought of what I will see. I don’t know what to do. Is it possible to spend the eternity with my eyes closed? Will someone come and open them for me after a while? Will someone wake me up? But still, I can’t resist the temptation. I need to see… I must see.
So, I take a deep breath… I feel this warm, fresh air. It is so pleasant! I immediately open my eyes and… I find myself back in my own bed, in my pajamas. The window is opened and spring is knocking at my door. The sun is shining shyly. My beautiful trees smile at me. I smile back. People pass by and say ‘hello’ seeing me smile in my pajamas… it is rather early. A bright new day came. I wonder for a while if this is heaven, or perhaps a second chance… Or maybe everything was just a dream. I see an old rusty blade on my table. I take it and throw it away. The danger is gone. Everything will be all right from now on. My carpet is as white as ever...
I breathe again and again… It’s like I can’t get enough of that fresh air! It smells like green grass, like happiness, it smells like a new beginning, like morning, like… life!
I still don’t know if it was just a dream, or perhaps it still is… I don’t know if it is heaven or a second chance, but all I know is that I’m going to take it! And I’m going to have the best of it. Life ended. Life has just begun.
© Copyright 2006 Oana (onutza at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1053603-Am-I-dead