www.whyville.net Oct 27, 2013 Weekly Issue



MeKissYou
Guest Writer

My Last Breath

Users' Rating
Rate this article
 
FRONT PAGE
CREATIVE WRITING
SCIENCE
HOT TOPICS
POLITICS
HEALTH
PANDEMIC

I stare blankly at the deserted gravel country road that stretches far in front of me. My past plays over and over in my head. All the bruises, the yelling, the hard slashes on the wrist. Nothing has gotten better, but I'm sure it will. Eventually. It's been one month since I've left. One month since I've had one proper meal, a single hug, but more importantly it's been one month since I've allowed tears to slip through my eyelids.

I gaze down towards my worn out purple converse shoes, mud crusted over the bottom from the puddles of rain the night before. The laces have become frayed, slowly coming apart more every day. I still remember the day I had received these, the thoughts replaying. My best friend gave them to me as a gift, leaving the reason for it unknown. At least until that very night. She'd been going through the same exact thing I have, being abused daily. But her body wasn't strong enough to handle the torture that night; the night I lost her. She was my everything; the one person who kept me at the house that should keep me safe. When she left, I knew it was my time to leave as well.

Coming back from my memory, I begin my hike towards safety and towards a better life. Stomach pains surge through my body, eating away at my muscle to find a source of energy to stay alive. Miles pass by quickly, and I notice a sign that tells me I'm twenty away from New York City. A smile sneaks onto my face. This is my chance to start over. This might be the city someone will take me in and offer me a job. My pace quickens as the excitement becomes overwhelming.

The day passes quickly, the city coming much slower than expected. The already painful blisters have become worse, and my body has become exhausted. I sigh in frustration. I was so close. Today should have been the day that I started over in the city. One more day has passed without any success.

My body collapses onto the cold gravel, rolling onto the soft grass. Just one more day is all I need. One more day. My eyelids become heavy, as does my heart beat. It's been a few weeks since I've eaten. A few days since it last rained. All I need is sleep.

I smile, knowing that my life will become better tomorrow. At least better than it was with my family. I close my eyes, letting myself slip out of reality. Unfortunately, for the last time. My body has given up. The torture has seemed to end, in an non painful way.

 

Did you like this article?
1 Star = Bleh.5 Stars = Props!
Rate it!
Ymail this article to a friend.
Discuss this article in the Forums.

  Back to front page


times@whyville.net
14048