BEGONE

CHAPTER IX

I stand on the edge of oblivion, teetering on the precipice of despair as the darkness looms before me like a suffocating blanket, threatening to engulf me whole. Each breath is a struggle, each heartbeat a painful reminder of the emptiness that consumes me. I long for release, for an end to the ceaseless torment that plagues my mind and soul. The weight of existence bears down upon me like a heavy burden, crushing me beneath its suffocating embrace. I am consumed by a sense of hopelessness, a gnawing ache that refuses to be silenced.

And so, I find myself drawn to the edge, to the promise of oblivion that awaits me below. The thought of falling, of surrendering to the void, fills me with a strange sense of peace. For in that final moment of release, I would be free from the pain and the sorrow that haunt me day and night.  I close my eyes and imagine death, the peace that awaits me on the other side. But even as I contemplate taking that final leap into the void, a small voice whispers in the depths of my mind, urging me to hold on, to keep fighting, and to believe that there is still hope for a better tomorrow. But the darkness is relentless, its pull too strong to resist.  But what hope is there for someone like me, lost in the depths of despair, drowning in a sea of sorrow and regret?

But even as I yearn for the solace of death, I cannot shake the fear that grips me, the terror of the unknown that lurks beyond the threshold of life. Death is not just an end, but a beginning—a journey into the great unknown. What lies beyond the veil of mortality? Will I find peace in the afterlife, or will I be consumed by an eternity of darkness and despair? Death is scary, too, I remind myself that it is a void that swallows us whole, a black hole from which there is no escape. And yet, in the depths of my despair, it seems like the only way out.

I am no longer a human after all.

Not even treated as one.

 It is a mortal sin against the teachings of the Bible, against the doctrines of any religion that preaches the sanctity of life. But what do I care for the words of a distant deity who has forsaken me in my hour of need? I don't believe in gods, or in God Himself for if they existed, they would not allow me to suffer as I do. They would not stand by as I drown in the sea of my own despair, abandoned and alone. And so I am left to grapple with the darkness on my own, searching for a way out of the labyrinth of my own mind.

Yet, I surrender to the abyss. I step off the edge, allowing myself to be swallowed whole by the darkness that surrounds me. And as I step toward the unknown, the world fades away, swallowed by the inky blackness that envelopes me.

And then, like a whisper in the night, I hear it—the sound of someone falling, the sound of someone letting go.

Woosh.