Introduction to my autobiography...

(The original essay question was - “You are asked to write the first chapter of your autobiography in an imaginative and unusual way. You need not begin with the beginning of your life.”)   

          I wipe the tears from my eyes as I run farther and farther away from home. I seek solace in dark streets, but there is none to be had. Everywhere I turn there is light – harsh, oppressive light. My heart is pounding and the only sounds I can hear are that of my bare feet as they slap the tarmac and the blood pounding in my ears. I can’t think clearly but I feel an overwhelming need to get away. I have no idea where this path leads but the need to escape keeps me going. More tears blur my vision so that everything is just a swirl of light. Vague reminiscences come to mind and I run faster to try and get away. I want to leave, I want to disappear, I want to creep into a dark hole and clear my mind of my past; of any thought whatsoever. I reach the end of a road. The twinkling lights are far behind me, partly hidden behind the shroud of dark night that envelops my surroundings. I pause and a cool calm creeps over me as I breathe in the crisp air. The sweat and tears mingle and slide down my cheeks. I get off the road and start walking in the fields that line the dark street. I am vaguely aware that my feet are cut and bleeding and riddled with thorns but it is as if the pain was someone else’s. I feel numb. I want the darkness to smother me. I stumble over the uneven countryside and fall down. I lie on my back and stare at the sky. The sliver of silver moon shines feebly, as though it too, has given up. The stars fill the sky like tombstones in cemetery except they have been forsaken by the Angels set to watch over them.
        I close my eyes to shut out the sickly light that seeps through the canopy of night. I want to be free from desolation and despair but it all comes rushing back to me. Flashes of my entire existence, from my first memories to the unfortunate events of the past years fill my mind. Images of my youth taunt and tease my tortured soul. I long for that peace of mind, for that innocence that was taken away at too young an age. I open my eyes, and blink, each time I close my eyes, I see the faces of those I have loved and lost. I blink again, and am haunted by the nightmares of my childhood. I close my eyes and those ephemeral monsters are brought back to life. There is no comfort, no peace. I am constantly reminded of my past, my present, and consequently, of my failed future.
The Grim Reaper of my youth beckons. He can offer me tranquility, he says. He can offer me beautiful darkness, I shan’t have to prove anything, there is only the present, I can be free, uninhibited, free from earthly pains, free from the weight that is pressing ever deeper into my heart. He can offer me solace.