Heal

Genre: Psychological, Dark

 

Heal

 

Am I healing?

 

What’s taken place, and what has been. What is no more, what no longer is.

What will be – I do not know.

The climb has been steady, with pitfalls and highs along its way.

The trajectory points up and forward, despite it being impossible to see.

The highs get higher, the laughter gets louder. On the flipside though, and there is a big one, the lows are much lower.

It’s no wonder each day I am comatose. I can’t take the stimulation of the highs as much as I’m unable to take the desperation of the lows.

If there is a middle road, I’m yet to walk it.

Pain is there, as I journey through hell. I’m traversing it, on it I’m balancing, and I’m holding my breath. Because at any time, I might fall.

 

So. Am I healing?

 

Things could be how they were. When I had no one, when nothing was all I did have. Hard work has made it better, although the lows contradict and tell me otherwise.

But I’m still here, so I carry on. Climbing, breathing and surviving.

One day I may be okay, one day I may heal. And Until that day comes, despite my tortured soul, I’ll hold on and hang on to the what that may well be:

I am free.

 

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DailyPost Prompt – ‘Heal’. Click here to view

 

There’s Light in Darkness; I Think.

Hello! Um, I think I need to issue a warning on this piece. It is very dark. Suicide, death and dying is in it yet has some hope thrown in too. So, It’s entirely up to you if you want to go ahead and read it 🙂

This photo prompt is provided by FFFAW and you can find the weekly prompt challenge here 🙂

 

Genres: Dark/Disturbing, Tragedy & Psychological

 

 

The darkness and desolation mirror my soul: hopeless, fearful and alone. But, a light keeps moving me forward even though I wish it would dim. I truly want to die but I also want to live. The ambivalence drives me insane. Why can’t I decide once and for all one way or the other? My friend says to me “don’t do it” and I think great, I chose death and now he’s stolen the moment: I hate it when he says something to stop me. Why can’t I just go?

But, however dark I feel, how void of hope I am, that light always remains, illuminating a small spot within me. In the end, I hope I’ll find meaning from my pain and the struggles I’ve had. And If I do and if I can do good, then my life will have been worth it and I’ll have finally found my peace – that’s the plan, anyway.

 

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Beyond Repair?.. Not

123 09 September 27th 2015

 

Beyond Repair?.. Not

Over the past year: situations, illness’ and marred relationships had piled up – just like a pile-up on a motor track that fully ends a race. Finally, she pulled away from it all and placed it in the past, viewing it as a series of unfortunate happenings.

Starting over isn’t easy, especially if it involves a multitude of aspects in a persons life: social, health, work, spirit, beliefs, faith. If someone is to move on and start afresh, these things need to be restored and some, even reworked.

Everything that has been held dear, what once was believed in and trusted, gone.

Is the heart and soul beyond repair?

…Like the battered racing cars, they will either be crushed or fixed: the dents knocked out, the wheels replaced, the foundation that is the chassis, mended. Patience, hard work and loving dedication, until all that needs to be repaired, is.

I wish I’d of listened to my own counsel and not to the direction of others. But now I do listen to me. And through all the adversity I have suffered, the one thing that I forgot was there came fighting through…

…That which never left:

My strength.

 

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Piccy prompt from ‘Sunday Photo Fiction’. Find others’ stories if you Click Here

 

 

 

 

 

‘Daddy, Please Don’t’

(folks, this may be a trigger for some. read wisely)

Genre: Tragedy, Psychological, Dark.

 

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photo source

‘Daddy, Please Don’t’

 

Every day I see mommy crying. ‘Don’t cry mommy, please don’t cry’, and she wipes her tears while she is holding me close to her.

Daddy comes home and mommy always tells me, really quietly, to ‘be a good boy now, Daddy’s home and I need you to go to your room and stay there okay? go, go on’.

Daddy is shouting at mommy again. I see through my opened door my mommy on the floor crying: She has a bloody face again.

Daddy see’s me and yells, ‘get over here you little bastard. see? see what you made me do? you little shit’. mommy is begging him to stop, but it’s too late. Daddy hits me across my face and it hurts. But I won’t cry.

Daddy hits me again. Then he leaves, slamming the front door.

I crawl over to my mommy and we both sit huddled, and cry.

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VisDare 108: Voice. Visit Angela’s site here for weekly story prompts.

 

The Still Wait

Genre: Tragedy, Psychological

 

Photo source

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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Regret, Love and the Sea

Genre: Tragedy

 

A line of benches overlooking the sea
A line of benches overlooking the sea

 

 

Regret, Love and the Sea

 

I sit here looking out at the sea thinking about all that ‘could have been’ in these 89 years. And I can’t help but wonder why he and I met and why I stopped looking for him. He was everything I wanted: stable, kind, handsome, a great career…He was perfect, in my eyes anyway, he always was.

Maybe I should have searched harder, hired that private investigator which I entertained more than once. But something always held me back, it was as if there was an invisible block there and I couldn’t push past it…And I still don’t understand it.

I guess I thought he would come find me; he said he would, but he never came.

I should have done what I’m about to do a long time ago. Hindsight is always in 20/20: And if I had known I’ll be sitting here at this age, I would have done this 40 years ago when I last saw him.

Anyway…10 more minutes to look out at the troubled sea before I head back. I have enough pills now and a large bottle of rum to wash them down with.

And after all these years of pain… I’ll finally have my peace and closure.

 

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Picture prompt thanks to ‘Sunday Photo Fiction’ here

The Dead Earth

Genre: Dystopian/Apocalyptic, Tragedy

 

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

Photo – © 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

The Dead Earth

 

Once upon a time in a land far, far away, the vegetation was lush, green and abundant: Then it changed.

Pollution, Chemical Spills and Acid Rain Storms killed off all what we had. Farms and crops and livestock – dead. There was nothing left to feed on and millions died.

The water from our rivers and lakes are now poison to our flesh. The air is so thick with deathly chemical waste that gas masks we wear day and night.

None of us know how long we’ll survive.

This wasn’t an accident: For decades there were warnings – all which went ignored. They knew this would happen and Campaigning did little, though it was fought tirelessly.

And, this now, is the result of man’s greed. The lust for power and wealth. What can man do with that now?

It’s over.

This is what the Earth has become… permanently uninhabitable: Dead.

 

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This is my 1st entry into ‘Monday’s Finish the Story’ and what fun it has been (even though it’s a miserable story!) Still enjoyed it! 🙂 ‘Here’ is the link.