There were no sounds within the kitchen: no breathing, no beating, no moving.
The white, cut up tree falls from my hands as gravity entices my weak knees to come home, pain shooting over said body parts as they harshly collide with the floor.
Yet even though spasms of discomfort were making themselves known through Zeus and his thousands bolts of lightning, my mind remains completely blank to the world.
The blood stops flowing, the heart stops beating, the oxygen stops coming, and the body stops moving.
No breathing, no beating, no moving.
My mind is unaware of how many hours has passed, frozen in time as the words of that heartbreaking Letter flashes before my eyes like fireworks on the fourth of July.
But this wasn't a time of joy but the sorrow the battles fought brought.
Blue eyes dully stare up at the ceiling, unblinking and not moving, as the world continues to rotate while they stay lost in a world seemingly like death.
Death, what a wondrous word as of now: a way to escape reality permanently, to atone for my wicked sins...
Truly a wondrous word.
"Truth to be told, I'm terrified of Death."
"Shut up," Thin lips move slowly as a memory suddenly strikes the unsuspecting victim.
"Not because I don't know what to expect,"
"Shut up," A whisper was released once more into the quiet room, the words spoken at a higher volume as my body quickly awakens from its coma.
"but because I wouldn't be able to tell all the people I love how much I love them anymore."
"Shut up!" My body jerks up as I let out an anguished scream, tan hands slamming over ears filled with a single, smooth, beautiful voice.
A voice that was and would be no longer within my hearing.
"Don't remind me," Trembles rack through my rocking body as I helplessly beg for mercy from memories, the tears letting loose and streaming down my face. "Don't remind me."
But no matter how much I beseech Fate and the Gods, no matter how many liquids fall from my eyes, the memories still came.
I didn't realize just how late it had gotten or when my numb body sluggishly dragged itself from the kitchen floor to the bed I had once laid with my husband, all I was aware of was ultimate oblivion.
~
When the golden globe rose the next morning, it didn't bring guilt as it usually did nor did it bring the same spoken apology, but instead brought complete numbness-and total agony.
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Whatever It Takes
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