My Last Day Standing

Preface

*I have made huge changes to the first chapter, If indeed you don't like my changes please share your opinions in the comments below. Thanxs to all my readers. I love you all. A book is nothing without it's reader* ~ laura

"i emerged from a daunting forest, my bare feet kiss the moist grass. Slowly i place each foot infront of the other, the wind appeared strong and lashes through my raged clothes. I came to the edge of a shadowed cliff where the waves moved uneasily below me. I was feeling like the waves. My mind though was empty, a black hole you. It absorbed my thoughts untill i was left with nothing. Cold rain drops met my skin and i breathed lightly in through my nose and out throughmy mouth "This isn't real, this isn't real" I chant.

I cant' jump so i fall. I didn't struggle, my limbs didn't move, the shock from falling alone forbid me from moving. Floating down and then i hit the water.

Nothing.

No bright light or angels. Just nothing. Is that what death is supposed to feel like? Just obscurity? Are we numb to the pain?

And then i wake up"

My cousellor was small and short haired - doctor Freeman was her name - I saw her every Tuesday night 7 till 8pm and i have been for two years. She was a polite woman but for a counsellor sucked at actually listenign to peoples problems.

She made me tell her very week of my re-occuring dream. Where the details never change. Her blond hair was curled in at the ends while she gnawed on the cap of her pen lid.

"No changes" she spoke what she'd written on my progress report. I rolled my eyes and picked myself from the sturdy brown couch. The antique filled room was rather pressuring, not like any other counsellor room i'd been in. Typically the room would be painted a calm colour while keeping  the walls bare with no personality apart from maybe a cheerful picture to lighten the mood but really it would be practically empty. So empty that voices would echo between all four walls but no this place was weirdly different and for someone with a mental illness could find this place quit patronising. Considering theres a stuffed antalopes head pinned to one of the walls.

"That seems to be all for today Miss Daniels. If i am corret I'll be seeing you next week at the same time?" i nod my head yes. This seems to be a re-occuring question with a re-occurring answer.

It was never my choice to come to counselling every week but I think that is the same for every teenager in my position. It's never a choice but always a demand. In truth i don't enjoy this truthfully i hate it. Being made to tell a complete stranger every detail of your life without thinking they'll make a snap judgement of you.

My thoughts swam around in my head as they do after every session. It;s a rushed hour for her to go through all the procediures. First she starts off by asking how I;m doing today? Is everything all right at home? (That answer varies) and lastly the question i dreaded the most. Are you still having troubles with your nightmares? I always seem to flinch at the sound of those words leaving her mouth. The same effect as someone running there nails down a chalkboard but no matter the circumstance the answer is always no. They haven't gone away and i've lost the faith in that one day they might.

After an uncomfortable length of silence that i knew i should probably leave "I think you're scared" She said while my hand lingered on the door nob.

"Excuse me?" Eagerness was laced in my words. I just wanted to be out of here.

"I think you're scared of death" Those six words hit me like a fist in the gut. My throat tightened adn my mouth became dry. Isn't everyone. I did not speak my thoughts "I also think it's the face that you don't know what's going to follow after death either" she said this while looking at the floor but the confidence i her works hurt like a dagger to the heart. Shallow  pools of water formed in my tear ducts, I couldn't force any words from my mouth "We shall continue this next week"

My throat hurt from holding back tears, swallowing the sentence i was close to saying, i turned on my heels and almost ran from the building.

Her last few words echoed in my mind You're scared of death and what will come after they were on a loop roll running constantly through my head You're scared. I feel like a small child afraid of the dark. Scared to climb of my bed for the fear of something grabbing my ancles and pulling me under but my fears are real. They live inside me and i feed them exactally what they are wanting. I'm feeding them the satisfaction of my fear.

Is it possible that everything in this world is a lie? Just something you're taught to believe cause no ones showed us how not to? There are somethings in this world, even in existance that wedo not know of or maybe choose not to believe. One day there will be nothing left, tree's will one by one be destroyed and our oxygen levels will drop, animals will slowly die off, water will no longer run down streams, no one will live, no one will breath, love, hope of sleep. It will all be lost. There's no need to deny this to ourselves but with the time we have left being limited and that we are all inevitibal we may aswell just live untill the darkness takes over.