Winter chill. Icy white. Flood the mind, flood with darkness and shadows. There is no light here.
>Where is your God?<
Needles pierce the heart - needles of all sizes, of all types. Sharp, dull, some colored black and blue and green, others deep red. There is no light here. You can’t find the door from this misery - it doesn’t exist.
>If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are all of men most miserable.<
Take a breath. Ignore, ignore, ignore. You can’t ignore words so hateful, said with such force you are almost thrown into belief because they believe. And where is someone to correct such a mistake?
There is no light here.
There are webs of deceit, where you lie tangled with another, silky strands tied around your body, and much deeper into your soul, colouring it such a beautiful black. The light can not enter where its shut out.
There are fields of lust, where you walk frequently. Lust for life, and all the darker corners it holds.
There are skies of onyx grandeur, with blinking stars of red, words wrote out in those shiny dots that you refuse to read. But they stick with you. They cling to you like tar you can’t wash off.
There are so many things here. But there is no light.
>Why reason these things in ye heart?<
A strike. Against the arm, the cheek, the leg, the heart. Against the things you’ve tried to guard, but lost so long ago. Innocence has no place here. Here? Where is this place again?
The door to misery isn’t there. No escape. You’ve gotten used to this though, so what does it matter?
Dark lines criss cross over your body, tattooing all the things you want to forget. What makes a life? What makes a child an adult - what makes a monster? Questions, questions. Ignore that. Take a breath, steal a moment.
You’ve decided to leave with a blade smile.
There is no light, there are no doors - shadows and biting grins are there to greet you on the day you’ll leave this hole. You’re tired of onyx skies, of tangled webs, of fields you realized now are harsh. You’re tired of darkness. Where you may go after the grinning blade, you don’t know - but surely it must be better than this lie.
>But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things.<
The bridge is empty. The cords sway in a way that can only be called sway rather than move. The water beneath is glittering in the night’s moon glow, beckoning poor souls to cleanse themselves with its beautiful trap. The blade shines just as prettily, grinning Cheshire’ly. It’ll paint your tissue white wrist lovely, the liquid life singing ballads of fear that you might ignore.
Ignore, ignore, ignore.
One slice. That’s all you need. Take a breath. There is no light here.
“You shouldn’t do that.”
Your world freezes in surprise. A kind voice, a voice that’s bland in its kindness. Uncaring. The girl stares at you, dark eyes, so dark that they match the death below. No smile, no worry. Blank. Furrowed brows - confusion.
Winter chill. Icy white. Take a breath. Steal a moment. You have this under control.
“That’s a stupid idea.” There’s a conviction in her voice that makes you pause. Belief--you can’t believe her belief. Your belief has you on this bridge painting tissue white wrists because of what others believed. Ignore, ignore, ignore.
“Its not really gonna help, is it?” She asks, coming closer. Hands tucked into a snug jacket, jeans too long and wet on the bottoms. She wears no hat, letting dark hair sway like the cords. Dark eyes - dark, dark eyes. Intent on you.
“What do you care?” She doesn’t. No one does.
Head tilt. So white under the streetlamp, so dark, dark, dark. “Why don’t you?”
>The time is fulfilled and the kingdom of God is at hand. Repent ye, and believe in the gospel.<
“Is your life so worthless that you’ll dive with slit wrist? Are you so hopeless that there isn’t any way to make it better.” Curious. “Surely there’s someone you love.”
Webs of deceit. Fields of lust. Skies of onyx grandeur. There is no light here.
A girl with a soft smile, kind eyes and gentle hands. A man with a proud hand on the shoulder. A woman with loving eyes.
Ignore, ignore, ignore.
Surely there’s someone you love.
That was an option?
“Why take away something you were given?”
“What makes you think this life is worth living?” Bitterness.
A blink. Head tilt. Smile. And dark, dark eyes. “What makes you think you’ve lived all of it to be sure its not?”
Closer still she came. White hands slipped from the jacket and pulled away his grinning blade. A glance, then it sailed into the glittering water.
Emptiness. “What now?”
“Meet me here tomorrow at five o’clock.”
“Why?” More webs? Or fields? There were no skies in this girl’s eyes.
“Because, tomorrow…I’ll show you how to live.” Silver, cold and bright, slipped into his hand. A cross. Simple, shiny, with angel wings engraved on the first two corner points.
“W-what is this?”
Dark, dark eyes smiled. “A new beginning.”
>Verily, I say unto thee, today shalt thou be with me in paradise.<
Read more articles by Sabrina Leigh or search for articles on the same topic or others.