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My Fear
Fear (fîr) n.
a. Alarm and agitation caused by the expectation or realization of danger
b. An instance of this.
Extreme reverence or awe.
A ground for dread or apprehension: Danger
Synonyms: Agitation, Alarm, Consternation, Dismay, Distress, Dread, Fearfulness, Horror, Panic, Terror; Fright, Trepidation
She didn’t experience fear.
It was a normal thing for everyone but her.
She was never the type to get scared, and it’s truly not denial. She hadn’t ever experienced fear.
And now, as she stood on the arm of the old and lonely desolate bridge, looking out along the water, her mind traveled back to every single and pivotal instance where she should have been afraid. But she wasn’t.
The first night that her step-father hit her.
The first time he tried something that went against the convents of the universe.
The first time she almost died.
The first time she woke from a coma, and the ones after.
The time she joined high school.
The time she stood up to the senior that pushed her out of the way. On the first day of school.
The first time she tried suicide.
The ones after that.
The one she intended to commit.
There were many instances in her life where she should have been afraid, but it seemed that her mind was incapable of the feeling.
Her eyes traveled over the water, there was supposed to be a storm coming later today; the water eerily calm. Not a single ripple ripped through.
It was almost foreboding. The water, in its dark blue, reflected the scarlet turned sky.
This is the point when she should have had to prepare herself for her personally constructed demolition, but she didn’t need too.
She just simply had to take the last step over the edge of the bridge wall. She wasn’t holding on; nothing keeping her tethered to this dimension.
She didn’t take the step she was meant too. Something stopped her.
Someone was standing at the edge of the bridge watching her. Watching what she decided to do. He didn’t say anything, but tears threatened to start streaming down his face.
She knew what he was thinking. It was what everyone thought in this type of situation. She wasn’t going to do it. She just wants attention. She just wants a simple breath of air. She won’t do it.
He doesn’t think that she saw him, but she did, she just doesn’t care, and he just unambiguously watches her.
It was the difference between her and the others that live in the world.
She did it.
She took that step.
It’s peaceful… the feeling of falling. Your heart cradled in your throat. Your arms able to do nothing to battle the movement of the fall. Your legs feel weightless.
The impact didn’t hurt. She had felt worse harm. Her body was submerged, false fire spreading through her lungs. Before she hit, she saw the lone figure, standing by the edge of the bridge where she was only seconds before.
He had changed his mind. She was not a statistic, she was the one who made the statistics. She didn’t want attention, she wanted to end it. She just didn’t want to breath anymore. She did it. She jumped.
And soon he would follow, his mind changed by the images set before him, his story complicated because he had watched her fate turn, and he hadn’t said anything. He didn’t want it on his mind, the true pain of a guilty conscience. So he followed.
He didn’t think she would rise again. She floated to the surface of the water, her breath gone from her body, but still alive. She didn’t think he would follow.
Her favorite thing in the world was the agony of almost dying, the only thing she could feel. Rarely do people know the feeling of not being able to feel anything. People resort to pins of pain when they’re at the most desperate point of despair.
It was a sad thing to have someone that young be that desperate. It was sad to watch others follow in her steps.
He was scared, he didn’t want to jump. There was simply no other way out for him.
She was not scared. She didn’t feel fear. Instead of her saving herself, she let him save himself from the hell that people considered earth.
The pain that people go through on a daily basis is atrocious. God would be disappointed that the new ushering of life he created did this to each other.
So, she let him save himself, she climbed out of the water. He did not. Because in the moment he went to be a hero, he forgot he couldn’t swim, that he couldn’t have possibly even saved her life.
She lived on, but he didn’t.
Though she would argue that it was the other way around.
“Never try to be a hero,
You only ever hurt yourself in the end.
Taking the pain of others
And burying yourself in it.
You’ll lose trace of yourself.
At that point, you don’t live for yourself.
You live only for others.
And that alone is the most pitiable thing in the world.”
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I've dealt with depression for most of my life, I know it's not good to say, but I have and I didn't go for help. I never will, but one thing that helps me a lot is to write down what I'm thinking, to let the harsh truths I want to do come out through pen and paper. I hope people take away what I did when I wrote this, that the world isn't perfect, that's the theme, that's all it is. There are no underlayments, nothing, just how cruel the turns of fate are.