The Half Killed

August 9, 2008
By Kelly Spence, York, PA

It wasn’t cold like most metals are. I could feel the heat radiating off of it from my palm down to my forearm. It felt heavy, at least heavier than it looked. I let my fingers dance along the sides of the blade, the words “Micro Edge” carved into its side like a morbid scar. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of being numb. I would just sit on the floor, a bleeding porcelain doll. The very life I once held so dear now being pulled out of me through my wrists.
It stung at first. The blood flowed down my palms in tiny waterfalls. The excitement fluttered inside of me like a bird trapped inside of my ribs. My body is a cage, I thought.
“More,” I whispered, ripping open my creamy pale skin with the razor. The sharp sting didn’t even make me flinch, I was happy for the pain; it showed that the end was approaching like a far off storm. You could see it, but it was still far out of reach. Soon, the clouds would open like a fresh wound, and the rain would pour out of it like fresh blood.
The pain was fading; my fingers were the first to go numb. Slowly, my world faded into the dark pools of blood that covered the white tiles. I laid my head on the cold floor.
“No one ever said I would feel so tired,” I did a hollow laugh, how ironic it would be for me to die in my sleep, “Just like my mother…”My thought’s trailed off into the back of my mind.
My eyes slowly closed as I fell into a black ocean. My body was unable to move underneath the pressure. My actions were steady, tranquil. I couldn’t hear the screaming at the bottom of the ocean floor.
My body is a cage. My body is a cage. Let me be free, please, I don’t want to live inside a cage.
The truth is I was never happy. I had always felt as if my life was constricting me, like a mouse trapped inside a snakes coiled body, strangling me. The joy fluttered inside of my chest, my little caged bird was about to be set free. I wanted to be set free, but the only way that this caged bird would ever be able to fly is if its wings first be clipped. That was what had scared me at first.
What if this was really the end? What if there was no “after life?” What will happen to me then? The answer is easy, but it was hard to except; I will simply cease to exist. There would be nothing. I would no longer love, laugh, cry. I would never be able to hope.
“Kelly?” I heard my name being called out to me. It must be Death. But I couldn’t answer, my body was so tired. I let sleep cover me like a fresh snow that had fallen upon the land.
There was a high pitch ringing in my ears. I tried to move my mouth, but something stopped me. My throat throbbed from pain. Plastic, I thought as my tongue jerked back from the tube that was placed tightly into my mouth. My eyes couldn’t open; they danced behind my eyelids in a desperate attempt.
“Are we clear?” A man asked in a deep voice. I could tell he was standing above me, and I could almost feel someone check my pulse.
“Yes, we’re clear,” It was a woman’s voice; it was soft as she spoke, almost like a melody other than a sentence.
The ringing only grew louder. Suddenly, a wave of shock ran through me. Two hard metal slabs pressing against my chest with great force.
“Clear,” I heard the woman say again. This time the shock came with an even greater force. My body moved on its own, thrusting my abdomen towards the ceiling.
“We’ve got a pulse,” I heard her say. I could feel her touching my neck with two of her fingers. Slowly, I forced my eyes to open. I looked at her through the tears that started to flood down my face.
Why? Why did you save me?

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

Parkland Book