One More Chance

May 23, 2009
By
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She laid in the bed dozing off to the rhythmic beeping of the machines beside her, keeping time to her tragic reflection like a drum to a meandering melody. The firm hug of the blood pressure cuff and the strong smell of latex woke her from her fuzzy daze. The sad reality of her fate confronted her, and she longed to slip back into the comforting embrace of sleep. Her wrist was encircled by a red band of fate. Through her fuzzy vision she managed to read the number 1008674, followed by her name, Kimberly Truman. She never lived, not really, and now she was going to die. If only she could have one more try, one more chance in this game that she had just begun. It was like in a game when you started out behind, and could never catch up no matter how hard you tried. This was the game Kimberly had played. She was out before she had moved.
Negative remarks and aching silence filled her childhood. Her unhappy parents blamed her for their misfortune, and caused her excruciating pain without parting their lips. When they did speak their words were vengeful and hostile, and when they did glance in her direction their painful emptiness burned deep inside. Kimberly was not worthy of their time, and consequently she was not worthy of her own. Deep inside she had dreams, but she did not give herself time to fantasize over such trivial things. When her parents hurled stabbing words at her, she tried to reflect them and remind them of herself of their falsity, but the comments sank into her as a sharpened sword.
As Kimberly sat inside her cold and conspicuously empty room, the bright fluorescent lights above blinded her. She blinked, trying to get back her vision, and she realized her whole life she had been blind, she was just beginning to see. She saw that could have done anything she ever wanted if she had only stopped pitying herself. Kimberly was just a hollow shell of a person, mirroring the negative characteristics portrayed onto her. Her expectations of herself were molded as clay to meet the expectations of others. No one thought that Kimberly could ever amount to anything, and she had proved them right.
She used to have dreams. She had yearned to see the colors of the world, and experience the lives of people around it. Kimberly always thought that she would be the one helping, not being helped. In the past she looked forward to a family that loved her unconditionally. Lastly, Kimberly looked forward to loving herself. However, all this was not possible in her securely guarded world. She defended her heart as a safe; if no one knew the code no one could steal its possessions. However, in trying to protect herself, she realized, she had created unspeakable misery. Kimberly saw that if she had subjected herself to the possibility of pain, she could have received immeasurable joy.
Suddenly, the harsh reality sunk in, she had chosen her path. Kimberly could blame others all she wanted, but it was her that lived within their boundaries. She could have done everything she ever sought after, she could have been happy, but there was always an excuse. She was never good enough for even herself. Sadly, Kimberly’s game had been played. It was over. She longed for one more week, for one more year, for one more chance. However, unfortunately, this was life— not a game— there were no redoes.





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