Serenity

I stumble out of the bar onto the crowded streets. The mix of smog, smoke wafting out from the various other drinking holes of ill repute, and the streetlamps that dot the sidewalks like burning grave markers give the entire block a sort of macabre ghost town vibe. Not that it could faze me too much in this moment. I can’t hold my drink worth a damn. I don’t drink, but you don’t do the kind of thing that I’m about to do when you’re sober.

I spend what feels like an hour wandering in search of the steel death box that brought me here. The same kind that took her from me. Then I remember that I haven’t owned a car since. I scoff at myself and start walking. I don’t know where, home eludes my mind just like almost everything else. I had done too good of a job at pushing it all away that even my own name shies away from the drunken grasp of my attempted recollections.

It doesn’t matter, I don’t need it anymore, any of it. Soon it will all be free from me anyway. I don’t even notice the twin suns in my eyes at first. Funny thing is, all it took to rip me kicking and screaming back to sobriety was the car that rips through my body.

Damn, bastard beat me to it.

I feel gravity relinquish its hold on me and the wind gently stroke my face as if in goodbye. I had always liked the wind. I feel something else, but I don’t know what until I feel the ginger touch of the wind leave me as well. I had landed. I can’t feel anything, but I’m still alive.

If I was at all capable of it, I would laugh. A nightmarish and spiteful laugh, but a laugh all the same. Of course I’m alive. Trapped in a ruined and broken shell. I swear I hear someone’s voice, but they sound so far away. I hear it again, a little closer, but it may as well be from the other side of the world because I can’t have understood even if I cared to.

I scream as sensation returns to me, liquid fire in my body that burns me from the inside out like my blood has become napalm. The scream doesn’t sound like me anymore, and it makes me wonder if I’m truly the one in control or if something else has taken my place. The scream sounds like a soul has escaped hell only to be thrust right back into the fires of perdition. A call for mercy? Then I realize, I’m begging for death.

Some part of me shatters and I feel the apathy drain from me. I don’t want to die. I changed my mind. I beg whatever god will listen to help me. To take this pain away and give me another chance. I promise to do it right this time. I promise a thousand things, ways that I’ll do better if only given the chance. I feel molten tears prying themselves free from behind my eyes, escaping from the sinking ship that is my body.

And then it stops. All of it. I feel nothing. I see only darkness. The part of me that’s still semiconscious panics. Am I dead? Is this hell? Darkness gives way to light which gives way to sounds. I hear…beeping? Murmurs and whispers of distant people fill my ears, along with the occasional squeak of shoes on hard linoleum floors. I force open my eyes the rest of the way.

The light burns so much, but some part of me clings to that pain like a raft in a storm. The pain is good. It means it’s not too late. I try to move but the pain spreads from my eyes to my entire body. I writhe in pain and try to settle myself and just let the pain wash over me and dissipate naturally. It takes so long, but finally the pain recedes, and I can think again. I just wait and listen. I hear them, just beyond the door. But…somethings wrong. The murmurs, the whisper, they’re…different. I unconsciously shift to better listen, and then wince as I prepare myself for the painful consequences of movement. It doesn’t come. I move again. Nothing. No pain at all. No. No, no, no! I free myself from the bed, and rush into the bathroom, looking into the mirror before recoiling in abject horror.

No…

I see the flesh flay away from my skull. The muscle melts away too, dripping down onto the cold floor below. I watch as my eyes pop and splatter against the mirror, but I can still see. God help me, I can still see it all. I run towards the door to the room and try to pry it open but it’s locked from the outside. And then, I hear them again. The voices. They tell me to let them in, that they can help. That they will make it all like it used to be, better even. I feel the lock on the other side of the door turn and every part of me seizes in cold terror. I hold the door as hard as I can to the doorframe.

The voices get angry, they start screaming at me, DEMANDING to be let in. I feel the door buckle as an impossible force is thrown against it, again and again. I sob as my strength wavers. They’re calling my name now, telling me that it should have been me. I sob harder. They’re right. I never drank. Never. Until that night. It was so fast, I…I couldn’t react in time. She’s dead and it’s my fault. I fight against every instinct in me, and I force myself away from the door.

The handle turns ever so slowly as the door creaks open. I see nothing in the darkness beyond it, but I feel them all watching. It’s my fault, and it’s time that I paid the price. I step forward. Every step is harder than anything I’ve ever experienced. I feel what’s left of my body fighting me, trying so hard to force me in the other direction. Begging me not to do this. But it’s too late now. I reach the door and a single clawed hand reaches out to me from the darkness. I take it, and scream as it pulls me in.