The Still Wait

Genre: Tragedy, Psychological

 

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The Still Wait

 

Alone. I love breathing this air. I feel at peace.

I’m gonna walk down that grass dip to the lake, and no-one will even have an idea why I am here, and then I’ll be still.

No more worries, no more cares, just me, me on my own. No more friends, No more parents, No more fellow survivors. No-one anymore. Nobody. Just me.

The sun rising is beautiful.

As I breathe in the air, my mind free’s.

Ahhh, the fresh air. The peace.

I won’t look behind me. Nor will I retreat.

Damn, this lager is strong; now I know why alckies drink the stuff. Urgh, but it’s done its dues and I am woozy.

I’ll start to get going. Down the grassy hill.

*

 

Standing at the lake’s edge, I peer down and see my reflection rippled by the waters natural movement, I swallow the last handful of tranq’s: How well they work with alcohol.

For a while, at least.

I step one foot then another into the cold lake. I’m warm.

I can feel myself beginning to unsteady. Thoughts are hard. I barely notice my breaths as my body starts to will itself to fall. Must go in further. Each step is lifting lead.

I am fully affected by the drugs and drink now. I’m weak. I’m tired. Things are blackening around me. I carry on; well I think I do.

Then I think my final thought before I eventually fall:

‘God, Why? – Why?’

 

* * *

 

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