The Suicide
The knife plunged into
the depths of my chest; it twisted in one complete three sixty degree rotation
and remained stationary, though indefinitely. All the blood got directed
towards the knife creating an insurmountable pressure; my chest was going to explode.
The nerves around the wound cracked with the increasing pressure; ironically,
elsewhere the nerves shrunk due to immediate dryness or maybe I just felt so.
From crimson to dark,
then turning into an ugly shade of maroon the blood was gushing fearlessly out
of me leaving me alone; it was ‘my blood’ and now it was leaving me as if it
wanted to free itself from a sinful being as me or maybe I just felt so.
But at this thought, I
felt happy for my blood for it had finally achieved freedom. And here I was
marooned upside-down with myself. I could realize that every part of me was
evacuating me in a hurry to be liberated, I could sense their joy of getting
alienated from me and rightly so, for I was a sinful being or maybe I thought
so.
My vision was travelling
fast into a spectrum of darkness, my audible prowess was diminishing into
nothingness, my physicality was declining alarmingly and all this to relieve
myself from myself, or maybe because I just thought so.
And for one final time,
gathering all strength, the knife took another circle and I finally knew that
the proceedings of ultimate relaxation were finally completed, or maybe I just
thought so… because I don’t know why, somehow this world was nothing but a train always ready to run over me.