Infatuation Of Darkness

SUICIDE IS NEVER AN OPTION. NOT THE LAST ONE AND NEVER THE FIRST ONE. PLEASE TALK TO SOMEONE IF YIU EVER FEEL THE NEED TO DO SO. 

THIS IS A BOOK. A FRACTION OF FHE AUTHOR'S IMAGINATION, THIS DOES NOT RELATE TO ANY REAL LIFE HAPPENINGS. 

KINDLY AVOID IT. 

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So why now? Why has she become so stupid even after she had endured something soul-shattering and still she had not learnt her lesson.

She turned her head to the side with a frustrated sigh and that is when something shiny appeared in her line of sight.

She turned her body around and her feet touched the ground. She stood up on slightly shaking legs and hesitated.

'What am I doing?' she wondered with confused thoughts and wild mind. 'Where am I going?'

In what direction was her mind going, her mind? Was it even there now? She didn't even know what was happening but all she could be aware of was what her feet reaching for.

She held it in her shaking hands. Was she even ready for it?

What was she thinking? She held the surgical knife in her hands and looked at it. She had raised it equally to the level of her head. Her hands continued to shake as she looked at the knife. she tried to get her thoughts in order but they were jumbled mess. no matter how much she tries to reign them in a particular direction all the did was run wild.

'What do I do? This is not a solution.' She knew that. She was well aware of the fact but what more could she do? She wanted everything to end and it would all come to one when she would end herself.

She had no one who would stand still for her. After she would die, everyone would feel bad for some time but after that eventually, everyone would move on. for a few years, she would remain in the thoughts and memories but then again after that eventually they were they can forget about her and she would just be a distant memory kept in someone bottom dresser drawer, never to be opened again.

she was going to be that given that she had no social life that people will remember for. And how long would her husband remember her for? A year or maybe a decade? But what about the time after that?

She would be long forgotten.

He would be enjoying the embrace of his wife; his new wife and properly enjoying with the fatherhood that he would receive from her. Look at that, another thing that she could not do.

whenever Angela tried to catch her she immediately thought of those thoughts that she had felt in the white room and that she had gone through, how in the world If we could not be comfortable with kissing her husband could she ever give children to him?

She was a failure. And it was about time that she became one.

Her hand at was holding the knife fell to her side. She walks to the bathroom and closed the door shut. She looked at herself in a small mirror provided and thought of what she was going to do.

"It's okay," she softly whispered to herself as if in a trance. "It's going to be all alright." She whispered.

"Everything is happening as it's supposed to be.."

"..No one would remember you.."

"It's just you.."

Her whispers continued to roam throughout the walls of the bathroom. They echoed and reached to her ears again. Again and again, the same words were repeated and every time they echoed in her ears, they had a larger impact every time.

Bigger than the previous one.

She looked at the blade in her hand again and closed her eyes. A shiver went down her entire body. She was not sure if she had to do it but right now it seemed right.

'It is the right thing to do.' Something ominous, deep inside her whispered.

'You cannot touch him much less give him a child. What would you do with him?' she racked a sigh out. What was that voice? Where did it come from?

She raised the knife to the wrist of her left hand. She shuddered as the cold metal touched her skin. Her breaths were shaky, she felt out of breath. What was she doing?

'But it must be done.'

She closed her eyes. Something was constricting her to listen to reason. But to be honest, she had forgotten what reason was all together. She had no idea why she was doing it but she had to do it. She had to do it. 

She lightly caressed her skin and drew the lines over her skin where she could see the nerves.

Could she do it?

Should.

Something inside her snapped and she with the knife pierced her skin. The initial pressure did not do anything but leave a mark but as the pressure gradually grew, it grew out blood.

The crimsoned coloured liquid appeared on her skin and she gave a shaky sigh and continued the assault on her skin. 

It hurt. It hurt her badly. 

She looked at the line she drew and how her handiwork looked. She was hurting badly as the cut hurt her. 

Yet, she placed the knife on her skin once again and continued to draw the second line. It hurt. Both from the previous and fresh-cut. The pain was doubling but she had to do it. 

The third cut started. 

She did without any hesitation. 

Now, she felt nothing. She drew then without the feeling of pain affecting her decisions. She did it smoothly. She had to. It was necessary. Soon she had moved the assaults on her other arm and continued to the needful. 

She slid down, keeping her back against the wall. 

It was necessary. She would finally get her peace. 

That was what she had wanted all her life. 

Peace. 

Just a little peace.