Pull Me Up
Leora:
This all feels like a lucid nightmare, like my mind and soul are separate entities gasping to reach for the other, a vicious underwater current segregating me from me, desperate, dying breaths try to escape the quod of my throttled neck.
I feel the monster’s presence all around me, invisible hands reaching from everywhere to touch me in places I don’t want to be touched in, the slippery, viscid feel of them sends waves of nausea through me, but I can’t throw anything up, I can’t even scream or blink, as if my body is no longer mine…
And I hate it, for it makes me feel like more of a helpless mess than I already am, for the love of the moon, all this time I had a mother, I had a mother who loved me despite everything that happened to her because of me, despite the pain and suffering she went through, she loved me and waited for me, cared for me, and I didn’t know until it was too late.
You are indeed unworthy of love, Leora, for she was right in front of me for months and I didn’t even recognize her, the woman who gave me life and then gave her life for me, and I couldn’t do anything, I couldn’t protect her, and she is gone and I will never be able to tell her that I loved her back, that for all the years she had missed me, I missed her too, I craved her touch and her love, I craved her warmth and her kindness, that I have always wished for her, to just know her, and that she would have been enough to demolish all the loneliness I have always felt.
But now she is gone, I felt it the second death came to claim her innocent soul, and I feel like I am drowning in sorrow, shackled by the weight of all the words I never said, if only I was a bit smarter, if only I paid more attention, if only I stayed in the old house and worked on all the issues I had with my mate.
It is all my fault, I think as I sink deeper, far away from the red surface and all the noise coming from it, self loathing nibbling on my flesh like a hungry school of piranhas, and I welcome the pain it brings for I deserve every bit of it, the Silvermoon pack weren’t wrong after all about me after all, the torture they inflicted on me wasn’t misplaced, the hate and intolerance, I deserved every bit of it.
I am indeed cursed, I bring nothing but pain and death to those around me, and I have no one left to save, no purpose to live for, so what is the point of resisting? What is the point of fighting? What is the point of surviving and surviving when there is nothing left to survive for?
A mocking smile bubbles up from deep inside me, telling me that I should have known all along, life was never for me in the first place, I have always been a pawn of death and a caller for it, I shouldn’t have dreamed, I shouldn’t have loved, I shouldn’t have aspired, those things are for the living, and I have been fooling myself to be one all these years.
Sweet embrace of death, take me gently for this soul has been too battered to take anymore pain, take away my breaths and every morsel of will and warmth, leave me cold and numb, claim my memories and the burdens they carry as your own and lock them somewhere where they can’t reach me, undo me, erase me, as if I have never existed.
Deeper, I think as I feel the gravity pulling me downward slowly, the fall gradually stripping me away from the things that made me, me, and even when my lungs are suffocating, I feel lighter with every bit of me I let go, the terrified girl, the lost child, the desperate teenager, the ludicrous woman, just like that, leave nothing behind, take it all away for I don’t want me anymore…
But…
I try open my eyes as I feel the sudden tug but they want move, and I am no longer moving either, as if I am tethered to something, an invisible string keeping me suspended, not pulling me back towards all the pain I left behind, but not letting me fall either, fucking let me go, I think to myself, wishing I had some strength left in me, just enough to cut this damn string, but I don’t…
Let me go, I whisper into nothingness, my words soundless and weak, my lips cold and feeble, and I wonder why and what? What is holding me back?
I have stripped myself of myself, so what is holding me back?
Who is holding me back?
A delicious ache erupts in the sweet spot where my neck meets my shoulder, a warm sensation to odd for this place, pulsating like another heart refusing to give up while the one in my chest gladly does, and despite my prior decisions, I find the feeling comforting, soothing, like a last grasp of the rare happiness we were granted, the ones we hold on too right before being claimed by death, the cold around me intensifies, but so does the warmth, and I focus on the later, if I am going to die, let it be while holding on to this…
What is this?
And why does it feel…golden?
Why does it feel so precious, so rare, yet so familiar?
“Let go!” an angry voice roars inside my head, a voice that embodies the feel of the place I am in, as if the dark redness is speaking, I shake as I try to curl on myself, too afraid to think, too stunned and confused to react, and the gravity intensifies, my body feels as if it is being shredded all over again, with the thread working against the drowning, maybe I should listen to the voice, maybe I should let go, but I am barely holding on as I am, so what is the trick here…
“Leora…” another voice whispers, this one too far and too shallow but it is the warmth in it that prevents me from ignoring it, unlike the dark voice telling me to let go, this one, calling my name, asking me to hold on, and I am torn, I want to let go, I want the comfort of evanescence, but I want the warmth for a second longer, and maybe another more, and another more…
Pull me up just so I can listen to your voice one more time…
Pull me up just so I can feel the warmth one more time…
Pull me up just so I would know who you are, the pit won’t go anywhere, death won’t go anywhere…and a second more is all I am asking for…
Pull me up, I open my eyes…
Pull me up…I look around me…
Pull me up, I stare above at the flames, the green orbs, the red ones, the gray ones…
Pull me up… so I can reach out to the golden ones begging me to look into them…
Just a second more…
AUTHOR NOTE: I should have put this as a trigger warning above I know, but the sad truth is that life doesn't come with such warnings, instead, it comes with loads of raw feelings that drag us deeper into depression the more we give into them, that is why something as shocking as suicide might appear as if it came out of nowhere, where in reality, it was all that pain and emotions clouding everything beautiful and happy moment in a person's life until giving up is the only choice they think they are left with, that is what Leora is experiencing here, and that is what i wished for all my readers to experience the way it is, raw and ambigious, I truly appologize if it triggered anyone or caused them pain, thank you so much for going through this with me.