Deliverance [h.s.]

eighty-one | for mac

Oh no, there ain't no rest for the wicked

Until we close our eyes for good

Ain't No Rest for the Wicked || Cage The Elephant

*************

After a cardiac death, it takes approximately 200 joules of electricity to shock the human heart back to life. Within a second, what was lifeless and still, returns to life with a beating purpose. Be it divine intervention, the hands of another or fate; you are alive once more.

A second, third or fourth run at viability has been dropped in front of you with the question of, "what now?". Do you take the opportunity to change your entire entity? Do you build from scratch, construct yourself from the ground up? Do you rewire the foundation of your existence? Or do you simply stay stagnant, reborn only to live out your days unchanged until your heart inevitably stops once more?

For days my heart had been still, life was a fleeting image as I slipped deeper into my own metaphorical cardiac death.

Dead.

I was as dead as my brother had been in the desert. As dead as he was when I attempted to frantically put his fractured skull back together. As dead as Mac was when I said my final goodbye, moments before he was carted off to his fiery finale.

But the moment my feet hit the sand of the golden shored beach, I was shocked back to life. All at once, in a single moment, the 200 joules of electricity had coursed through my body, restarting my heart for a second chance at life that Mac would never get.

As I screamed to the sea, the blood returned to its normal flow within me. Steady beats thumped inside of my chest and when I crashed to the sandy floor, Harry's arm bringing me home, I knew what I had to do.

From that moment on, I made a silent vow to not only myself but to Mac.

Live.

I would have to live each day for the two of us just as I'd promised his lifeless body. From here on out, I vow to wake up and live with purpose if not for me but for him. That's what Mac would have done. He would've woken up everyday and lived like it was his last. He would drink his coffee like it was the first and last cup he'd ever taste. He would water his plants just a little extra incase he wouldn't come home. He would tell the people he loves that he loves them like he'd never say it again.

He would live; fiercely, wholeheartedly, unapologetically and genuinely.

The drive home had been a peaceful hum of noise. The quiet rumble of the car's engine mixed with the soft tunes on the radio as Harry's hand held on tight to my thigh, drawing soft circles with his thumb as he focused on the road ahead with gentle wind disrupting the already messy brown curls on his head.

You would think that all of this would make for a soft, peaceful, delicate image in my head. That my thoughts would be rainbows, butterflies and clouds. You'd think that if I were to give a speech right now I would be the next Miss America with my preachings of ending hunger and creating world peace.

No, that couldn't be more far off from the fire burning inside of my mind right now. With the 200 joules of electricity came a red, hot anger burning inside of my chest with my heart being the epicenter of my fury.

From the moment the tires peeled away from the serene beach scene, I have been seething beneath my surface. An amalgamation of thoughts have been racing through my mind, begging to be brought to fruition and I believe it would be a disservice to this world if I didn't do exactly what they asked.