16 Years Too Late
16 Years Too Late6 mins 2.5K 6 mins 2.5K
My POV -
Loud yet soothing sobs erupted from my tiny mouth as I entered the beautiful world. Each and every soul in the tiny hospital room gazed at me with lovingness, a look of contentment on their faces. This moment of utmost happiness was put to an abrupt halt after my mother died in the very same hospital bed where I had just started celebrating life. My brother, Isaac and my dad looked at me with red, bloodshot eyes. My dad broke the silence and yelled, "What did you do you worthless swine!"
I woke up with a start, gasping a line of sweat on my forehead. Its been 16 years since the incident and I still have the same dream every night. I hastily got up and got dressed, observing the artwork on my arm, each and every cut that I had inflicted upon myself for not being good enough. I went to the bathroom and fiddled with my trusty razor making one long deep cut, feeling the soothing effect of the cold blade on my soft skin.
"Get your ass down here!" My father yelled, his voice indicated anger. Panicking, I pulled down the sleeves of my dark black hoodie and went downstairs. He was drunk. He gazed at me with vicious eyes and in a flash, he was on top of me and started punching me till every inch of my skin was covered with bruises. I looked over at my brother, Isaac. He glanced at me, his face dangerously red he and opened his mouth and said something that hurt more than all the bruises combined together, it was a direct hit at my heart. "No one cares about you. Go kill yourself."
My eyes widened as I finally got out of my father's death grip and stared at him, tears threatening to fall off my eyes. I ran and took the stairs two at a time and locked myself in the bathroom. I grabbed my razor and started making five....ten......fifteen cuts on my arm, going deeper and deeper each time, suddenly I hit a vein and yelped in pain. I started sobbing uncontrollably. I always thought that Isaac accepted me for who I was yet he was the one who broke me. My vision began to get hazy and the surrounding started spinning rapidly. The cuts on my arm felt like a spider web, a web in which I was trapped and could not get out. This is too painful, I want to end this quickly. Thinking that I grabbed a bottle of sleeping pills and took ten of them in my hands. It was getting harder to stand. I gripped the rim of the porcelain sink. trying to steady my hands. "One Last Time," I whispered to myself. One. Last. Time. Then I gobbled all the pills, my head making contact with the cold tiles of the bathroom, oblivious to Isaac banging the bathroom door hysterically.
The door finally gave up and fell off its hinges. I looked down, immediately regretting my decision. There lay, my beautiful sister, lying in a pool of her own blood, an empty bottle near her dead body. With shaky fingers, I dialed 911 and started screaming. My dad entered the room and froze at the sight of my sister. "What have I done!" He started sobbing and I hugged him. "I ignored her for sixteen years and look what it did to her." he whispered. I just nodded my head, I was still taking in the sight of my sister.
It was my fault. I told her to kill herself. I am such a pathetic person. I still don't know what came over me. I was just angry at my friends saying that they would have preferred if my sister died instead of my mom and started making fun of her. Soon, the loud sounds of the ambulance's sirens snapped me out of my thoughts. She was taken to the hospital, immediately put on life support. The thought that my sister might not make it weighed upon me. After they allowed us to come in. I sat in the uncomfortable hospital chair and held my sister's hand. The thought that my sister might not make it weighed upon me and I did what I had been wanting to do for a long time now. I broke down and started crying hysterically.
Each breath, each heartbeat started getting difficult with every passing second, requiring too much effort. I felt blank - neither pain nor relief. I just wanted to lie down let this feeling of emptiness engulf me, I liked the state I was in. But I heard faint, soft sobs belonging to Isaac begging me to wake up and felt the guilty face of my dad. My body was being lifted, silvery wisps levitating out of it. There was a dazzling flash of white light and two doors appeared before me.
An energy that cannot be describe begged me to choose one of the doors. I grasped the knob of the door nearest to me and stepped inside to find a younger version of me, I was the happiest and bubbliest kid in the whole world. A version of me who walked with her head held high.
Then, the scene changed and there was another version of me, signs of self-harm clearly evident on every inch of my skin. I was standing in the foggy yellow light of a bathroom, holding a razor, my hands an inch away from making a river of red blood which would destroy my life in milliseconds. Even in death, I could not control myself. My body surged forward trying to get a hold of the razor, wanting to feel the addicting pleasure one more time, but I suddenly stopped and recalled the other version of me, the happy, bubbly one. I could have got the life I always desired but I made wrong choices, choices that destroyed me. I wanted to end it all and have a fresh start.
With that, I stopped breathing and as if on tow my heart stopped, there was a loud beep and my body relaxed. I slowly drifted upwards but when I looked below I saw my pale, fragile lifeless body lying on the white hospital bed. The soft sobs turned into wailing and the guilty face of my father changed to that of horror and traces of tears could be seen on his rosy cheeks. But the look of happiness and peacefulness on my face grabbed my attention. It indicated a realisation. A realisation that was 16 years too late, but I loved the way this blankness ate me up allowing to start a new chapter in this never-ending cycle called life.