Retraction

Chapter 2

My body froze. Time stopped, beauty, every imperfection, every delicate groove and sense engraved itself, permanently into my mind. He was perfect. A smile wide, broad and healthy, so warm and delighting, as well as inviting. He has full, curved lips which speak my name with a euphoric voice that can only be compared to the sound of a harp being delicately strung by angels. A large frame, built with layers of intense muscular capability, towering over me with that gorgeous sandy hair. Every night his eyes escape me, leaving me wonder the identity of him, his reality and existence. We always sit here, on a park bench, just watching. His lips form an O shape and a pure, harmonic sound flutters through the air around me. My ears buzz with pleasure as he sings me to sleep on his firm shoulder.

Sleep drifts into reality and I'm back in my cold, empty bed that cages me. Only my comforter is reliable enough to keep me close, secure under its protection. My heart is a dead lump that can hardly perform its primary responsibility of keeping me alive.

Looking at my florescent numbers on my alarm clock, my head sulks and I'm seething. It's only 1:37. I can't focus on anything but Jason, however, that man who lullabies me to sleep in the park has the potential to get me the minimally needed amount of rest to survive the day tomorrow. I've seen his mysterious face for over three months now, and the repetitious scenery and actions that take place whenever he's visible give me the only sensation, besides pain, strong enough to persuade my mind away from my highly recent emotional destruction that led to its extermination.

Inevitably, my mind works its way back to the debt of reality. My stomach cringes and uncomfortable tensions lurks, straining every possible position my body can partake in with the simple task of reuniting my mind with its unconscious state. Comfortability is simply impossible. The texture of my blankets begin to irritate the sensitivity of my feet and forces me to kick them free of the fabric. As a consequence, the frigid air circulating through my apartment brought on a numbness from my ankles down. I can't breathe through my clogged nostrils, and my throat is beginning to burn from the excessive amount of air journeying down it.

This feeling of anxiety that emanated from my inability to gain any scrap of rest eventually brought me to justify a drive around the city. I have no real destination, however anything is better than my room. Too much retentiveness haunts me there. My body is shaking from the mild air flushing in the windows. Even here, in New York City, I found it in me to carelessly roll all my windows down and speed through the lively streets. That's the way it is, however, the people roaming them during the day aren't of the same that walk it in the artificial light. They have dark thoughts and these are the times that I opine I should be out. Yet, my wrecklacness isn't second thought. I don't care what happens to me. He did this. Tomorrow I'll be miserably sulking through the day, and no one will know why other than the love of my life died. No explanation other than a driving mishap. No one will truly understand my pain of being used. I've told no one of his betrayal, his fictitious passion that led me on and had me believing. That unmasking would induce too much again on my own mind. It's just so difficult for me to believe. That's what I am, though. Naive.

Blinding lights sting my eyes as I drive too fast, just to feel the danger, and my emptiness sinks in. All the sounds become distant and the motion plays so slowly. I'm sitting in my car, no restraint nor seatbelt. I'm free. Free from my duties of life. A single drop of hollowness escapes my left, heavy eye, and I let my lids collapse to fully inspire through this moment. The fluid slowly crawls down my cheek and slows at my jawline. As if contemplating where to go, I feel it hang on with all the strength it poses before plunging deep into the absorbing fabric of my pants. They're made of a luxurious silk, however, they seemed to plaster themselves onto every patch of my unhealthy skin when I attempted to sleep.

I'm ready. For just this moment, I can completely effloresce and furthermore except it, my life, as it is. My primary principle, fundamental purpose is to be completely independent. I idealize this, an imbibe all the standards this implies. My life to everyone else means nothing, and I am now imperceptible. Just hours ago I thought this ideal was impassible, however, now, I'm immoderate and feelings so alive. My uncommon actions of carelessness brings me back. The sensation is so audacious. My heart is now just a used muscle and will do nothing but relentlessly beat. I feel nothing, want to feel nothing and can start living again.

Opening my eyes, the impeccable city lights blind me, and I'm feeling vulnerably blind. This, however, doesn't restrict me from wanting to feel even more of a rush. I push even lower on the gas peddle and watch as a license plate, belonging to the car in front of me, gets close enough for my flawed sight to make it out. The wind pulls my long hair back to wrap against the head rest my head is firmly being forced into from such a speed. My gaze is unfocused, staring into nothing but the blurs of surroundings' lights.

My heart skips a beat watching a rig come smashing into my left side. Feeling myself reinstate back to reality, my mind screams, my body shakes and a second collision, on my right side, makes it impossible for me to realize my true state. My eyes, becoming a shade of red, cannot comprehend my direction. Pain is shooting up my right leg, and my face feels so heavy. Moist, warm fluid coats my nose, forehead and down the right side of my face. I'm stuck, incapable of release, with astonishment  A third collision from behind takes me, and I'm nothing but black.

It's the strangest feeling, waking up I a bright room when you were born from a lightless night. An even stranger is that of being greeted by a woman with such unrealistic sympathy, being asked your name and not knowing the answer. Your body aches in every spot as your mind attempts to dig for anything, only to find nothing.

For some, you become hysterically belligerent. I, however, fail all attempts at anything but sadness. I cannot remember anything; cannot find myself peacefully lost in thoughts. I have no thoughts. I dig furiously through my last experiences of life, yet the outcome is the same, anything I ever was is nonextant.