===|End of the Line|===
Short story by: James Mortensen
| DISCLAIMER |
THIS STORY IS ABOUT SUICIDE, IF THAT BOTHERS YOU, PLEASE DON’T READ AND IF YOU DO READ THIS AND YOU ARE BOTHERED BY IT IN ANY WAY SHAPE OR FORM YOU WERE WARNED!
You hear a faint static as you breathe in, senses assaulted with the putrid smell of rot. As you open your eyes and look around, you see the shells of men living day to day mundane lives in tents.
It is dark and as you look down you can see a fresh blood stain on your shirt grow and you realize that it's coming from your neck. You frantically grab at it trying to stop the flow of blood leaving the sticky red mark of death on your shirt. You collapse to the earth, your mind is racing wondering what comes next as the static grows enveloping you in darkness.
You fall deep into the darkness, the weight crushing you making it nearly impossible to breathe. You hear your name from deep within calling your name as you sink deeper. It is cold and dank and all you can hear is the static.
You feel like everything is being sucked out of you as the darkness comes to an end, the bottom ever rising, you accept your fate as you fall to your death and close your eyes. Nothing… The static is gone, you feel normal. You breathe in and smell… nothing. You are confused as to why you are not dead yet. You can hear the faint and futile yells of people in the background. You open your eyes and look around at the darkness. A euphoric feeling takes over, almost making the darkness inviting. You Smile constantly as you close your eyes again, taking in one last breath before the line goes flat and the beat of life stops. Your body lays lifeless on the edge in a battle between gravity and friction. Light and dark. You feel a jolt push you away from the edge as you start to slip, pushing the line for a reaction. Nonetheless you fall, the line that separates life and death once again, goes flat with failure. You fall into the hands of death for good, the pact signed in your blood with the tip of a razer.
The End…
This story is meant to elaborate the rapid collapse into depression that people deal with on a say to day basis.
The beginning is actually under an overpass in a homeless camp to show he has lost all hope and motivation to live. He then got high and slit his wrist. He then starts to lose consciousness and slip into the darkness that is death.
The static was meant to represent confusion and the euphoric experience was meant to represent the death and confusion taking over as you slowly bleed out. I decided to write this in the third person to help visualize and immerse yourself in the story.
I decided to add this explanation to help the readers understand and conceptualize the meaning behind this story.
AGAIN, IF YOU WERE BOTHERED BY THIS IN ANY WAY SHAPE OR FORM YOU WERE WARNED!