Complicated

Blackness

11

The door beeped as someone entered. A voice floated over the shelves, searching. Another voice shrugged its reply. Footsteps traveled around, their owner hunting. They stopped, the object discovered. With a distressed eureka, a voice called to the other for assistance.

Hands briefly checked my thin frame and then struggled to pick me up. Other hands discovered the lethal dosage and pointed accusatory fingers. A voice corrected the other and directed it to the payment. The other voice fell silent and retreated.

Somewhere, deep in my subconscious mind, I was aware that a strong body was carrying me. Somewhere, my mind recognized the odd sounds being whispered into my ears as the phrase, “Don’t leave me.” Somewhere, it became evident that my savior had come at last, but it seemed too late. I wanted to do nothing but sleep.

I was placed in the car, lying across the back seat. Gentle hands awkwardly buckled me in. The door shut and another opened. A seat belt clicked, the engine roared, the transmission changed gears, we moved. The car followed the twisted path back to its origins.

The same voice called for advice and another aided. Warm bath water, new clothes, a bed, rest. The new voice told the other to finish the original assignment. The new voice reassured the other that everything would be fine. The voice sighed and tried to hide its tear-filled throat. The voice promised to return as quickly as possible.

I was thawed and undressed and bathed. The new voice worried about my skin and bones. I was dressed in unfamiliar yet sweetly smelling clothes, put to bed in unknown but comforting covers, checked on regularly. The new voice worried about my state.

The voice returned and sat beside me and cried over and about and to me and pleaded with me and read to me and sang softly to me and gripped my heart. The moment the voice had filled my ears, the moment he had spoken, a slight flutter in my stomach planted a new seed of hope within me. The rekindled flame encouraged me to wait just a little longer. My body’s exhaustion overtook my brain, and I slept deeply, wishfully willing the hope to remain until I woke up.

The blackness that had once overwhelmed me dissolved into a deep slumber. The blackness that had once compelled me to take my own life crept back into the depths of my heart and seeped into my dreams and tainted my memories and disappeared from existence. The blackness let go.

I let go of it.