"Why? What did I do to deserve this?" I mumbled to myself. It was eleven at night as I was walking home from another horrible day of my horrible life. It hurt me to breathe, let alone make the two mile walk home. Every step I took was a reminder to question my life's importance. Because of what I've had to go through, I began to wonder if my life has any actual importance at all.
I was not very fond of the dark, and with it being eleven at night in October, it was dark. Normally when I walked home I went the short way, which involved secluded roads, alleyways, and an abandoned parking lot. But tonight, I was scared of those unlit alleys and empty streets. Luckily there was a more lit path home.
The path went along the main road through my city. It was heavily lighted with buildings, street lamps, and car headlights, so I felt that was the best choice.,
The majority of the walk went by easily. I stayed on the sidewalk and was in no way harmed. The pain from my wounds was beginning to dissipate.
Suddenly I see something I never remembered. A tunnel. The tunnel was large, but very narrow. I had never seen it before, but I knew that was the way home, so I went through the entrance of the tunnel.
At first there seemed nothing peculiar about this tunnel. It was a red brick tunnel; I could tell because the tunnel had lights about every twenty feet.
Something was peculiar about this tunnel though. The tunnel was completely straight, but no matter how hard I looked, I couldn't see the end.
"No matter." I murmured to myself. "It's almost midnight. I probably couldn't see it if I tried." I continued to walk through the tunnel, my footsteps echoing inside the tunnel.
I blacked out from exhaustion. The next thing I know is that I'm walking, still in the seemingly eternal tunnel. It wasn't until then that I noticed the extremity of my injuries. I was covered in horrible scratches all over my legs, with multiple large bruises on my arms. I lift up my shirt to see I had at least four broken ribs.
I had no idea what position I was in the tunnel. All I knew was that I was deep enough in the tunnel to not be able to see either end of it. Looking back and looking forward, all there was to look at was the amber orange lights illuminating a dark brick tunnel.
"Keep walking. Just keep walking." I mumbled. I really had no reason to say that. I felt completely energized. I had no will to stop. I guessed it was that I needed to hear besides the constant tapping of my footsteps against the hard asphalt that could drive a man mad.
While walking I spent hours trying to figure out how long I had been in the tunnel. I had contemplated for at least six hours. I had decided by the deep blue of my bruises and the amount of dried blood over my scratches I had been there for at least three days. I knew that I needed to get out of here soon if I wanted to live. But then I thought "In here there is no one to hurt me. No one to neglect me. No one to say or do mean things to me. Do I really want to go back?"
Nevertheless I kept walking. There really wasn't anything else to do. All I could do was walk and walk and walk. I must've walked at least another couple hours before all the lights went out.
Remember how I said I wasn't fond of the dark? By the time all of the lights went out, I was freaking out. I held my hand an inch away from my face. If it hadn't have been my hand, I wouldn't have noticed it.
I began to run. Run until I could find the end of this darkness. I made the horrible decision of letting my imagination run free. As I ran, hearing the pitter-patter of my feet, I could hear more footsteps. I began to hear the voices of my peers say awful things to me like "Faggot!" and "Lardass!" and "Worthless piece of shit!"
I can start to feel the figments of my imagination beating. I can feel their fists punching me in the chest and stomach. I could feel the cool blade of their knives slice through the flesh of my arms and legs, causing me to stumble to the ground in imaginary agony.
When I fell down onto the cold asphalt, I began to cry. I just wanted the pain to end. I knew it was my imagination, but it felt so real. I could feel my life draining out of me. As I was just about to lay there and give up, I see a light.
The light was dim at first, but as I stumbled forward I could see it inch closer to me. I get up and I half-run half-limp towards the light. I am invigorated with this hope and joy that I hadn't felt in a long time.
Unfortunately, I used all of my energy before I could reach the light. I had once again fallen to the ground, but I noticed something peculiar. Even though I had stopped, the light still seemed to get closer. And closer. And closer. I didn't figure out what was going on until I was surrounded by the white light, which soon turned red, before fading to black.
The last thing I thought was that I had thought that the light represented that there was at least a sliver of hope for me, but instead it signified a false hope. A hope that wasn't there, had never been there, and would never be there.
What a surprise.
