A red light pierces the blackness from the corner of the room-blinking at
me. I hear someone's footsteps- these footsteps are a song I can't get out of my head. I hear them walking up the stairs at home, walking to class, trying on clothes in a fitting room-I hear someone's footsteps everywhere.
Then I feel the warmth of a hand, it gently touches my face and covers as they shoved me into the water. I start thrashing, kicking, grabbing at their hand-my lungs screaming, burning, demanding air.
My head peeks up to steal a breath before I can swallow a drop of air, their hand shoves me under again.
I'm always met with water, never air.
I'm tired-a calming sensation washes over me, allowing me to forget what I know is happening. I accept defeat-I want it to stop. I'm here forever and not at all-suspended in the stillness of it all.
Time doesn't exist when you're drowning. Then, it stops.
When I opened my eyes, I found my cat sitting beside me and licking my palm.
I didn't cry for the longest time, I was too busy with anger.
Busy...I stayed busy and then took a pill to help me sleep at night. So why do I wake up again with a nightmare?
I avoided silence, I didn't like the thoughts they brought up, and when anyone asked I'd smile and say I was fine. Remembering to forget was once a gift of mine.
Before a storm, there's always a dark cloud, and the same is true for me, a sadness slowly crept in. A sadness that revealed how heavy nothing is, and how there's nothing more painful than feeling numb.
The winds started blowing, bringing in change-this change flattened me, replacing my nothing with fear and panic. Then came the rain, and I started to cry, I cried with my heart filled. Replacing the noise with guttural pleas for the Lord to put an end to this storm and all my suffering.
The thunder brought screams I'd release into pillows and the lighting brought rage I'd throw into walls until cracks started forming inside my home-I stared at those cracks for the longest time, each memory I grew tired of remembering, and then one day finally, all the walls came down.
The storm had ended, the sun came out, and when I looked at the destruction, all I could see was a new beginning.
The rain was my release, the wind blew it away, and the thunder and lightning purified the air I would breathe into my new home.
I survived the storm.
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It feels great to be hopeful and happy, having such feelings like everything has ended can really be bad to ones life, it is good to hear at the end you regain yourself.
Thank you!
And yeah! There will always be light after dark
Just like Day after night.
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