Euthanasia (Kellic)

39: The Ghost

I Knew That Look Dear, Eyes Always Seeking Was There In Someone That Dug Long Ago, So I Will Not Ask You Why You Were Creeping, In Some Sad Way I Already Know

"But... Vic, you can."

My words seemed to echo around us with an almost comic book kind of gravity; unrealistic yet generally accepted by everyone immersed in the world.

I considered the matter of regretting my words, and then I considered the concept of regret within its entirety, and found it to be an utterly useless concept, my mind then wandering to fall in dismay as I came to the rather harsh realisation of just how much of my life I'd wasted in a state of regret over things that may have even been out of my control in the first place.

I let my attention, slip my eyes, falling over anything but his own, perhaps just for fear of the reaction he could seemed utterly unable of conjuring up, his lips remaining still and silent, and mine in a respectful mimic of that.

I let my focus fall onto the whitewashed walls before me, and tried to not to connect them to the white walls I couldn't get out of my head and the red that had landed me there perhaps even less.

I contemplated the absence of red in the recent past - it was an odd sensation, and at times without the daily reminder that I hurt and that I bled like everyone else, I couldn't help but feel so unreal at times, so worthless, like nothing - just a phantom, floating, forever.

And common sense would have had me find complacency in something that held such calibre, but protest was all I could do at this point, even if it was to be against the most meaningless of things, it was more of just habit rather than passion, but for this time, I felt a pull much stronger away from complacency as I realised that nothing held just that.

And realisation was truly a wonderful thing, even at the worst of times, because at the worst of times, perhaps it's just the only thing you've got left, and sometimes at times as such it makes it feel meaningless, because nothing else does, but at others it makes it the most meaningful thing you've ever known, because nothing else could mean as much as that shock through your body - that lightening flash of enlightenment, as you began something knew, and you exhale that last breath of nothingness, before you start again, and with each new start, despite all fear, there's always the chance to feel alive again.

I reckon common sense and I finally agree on that one too.

Because to feel alive is the most wonderful thing; to feel alive is to breathe, to feel alive is to be human, and to feel alive can change the whole world.

And I think we forget that sometimes, some of us more than others, and I would most definitely put myself in that second category, knowing that I spend far too much time contemplating death and the dangers of life, so that I barely live at all.

Perhaps it's subconscious; taking away the life I've got left - the life I don't deserve, but I like spending time in my own head, blocking out everything else, despite how important it may be, and what's truly the best thing about being in your own head is getting lost inside it, because I reckon one day I would wish I could never find my way out.

And it's always horrible when you fall back into reality, because you never quite notice, and you never quite expect it until it finally-

"Wait... what?"

Happens.

It took me a moment to pull myself back together before Vic's words and the meaning behind them really hit me, and I tried not to focus on just how much silence we'd taken, just how much time he'd wasted pondering over the stupidest of suggestions and yet the best response he could possibly come up with was that.