Perfect Posion

January 16, 2009
By Makena Hewitt-Brown, Park City, UT

Silently slipping into darkness, he fell forever into thin air. The
whipping wind gently brushed his smooth face, calling for him to join them forever
in the land of illusion. The inconceivable darkness came over him like a
blanket of clouds over the bright midnight moon. As he fell, his heart was a
stone. Not a beat, not a pulse, as if no time had passed whatsoever. He felt
himself turning into one of the shadows he had seen dancing before him, as if his
reality was becoming his insanity.
Crashing, he broke through an invisible and intangible barrier that kept him
from the light. It stung his brilliantly blue irises, blinding him from the
reality of death. He tried to remember what he had been doing, how this had
happened. Blank. His memory was cloudy like the poison in his veins. His
veins, it had seemed, were glowing more and more with every inch he fell. His body
black with bright purple lines showing themselves off to the darkness in
this new Hell.
Hell. It was then he realized where he was. Damned to fall through eternity,
damned because of the poison he had willingly consumed on the days he was
supposed to watch his beautiful little girl, the days when he never showed up
for his minimum wage job. No end to this sky, no bottom to this pit. He had
brought this on himself with all the people he hurt, the lies he promised and
the feelings he stole. His heart began to beat sporadically, as if making up
for the time it had lost. Pumping louder and louder in his empty chest. It was
threatening to burst and fill the endless dark with the crimson and black
ink of his stupidity and lies.
It was then the screaming began. First in his head, then in his ears and in
his corpse. Louder it got and he recognized the wailing of a new born baby
girl, his new born baby girl. When she saw him she screamed, he remembered Her
lengthy curls flailed violently as she yelled for her mother. He couldn’t
get the thoughts out of his mind. He tried to yell but his voice was nothing
but a whisper. He heard himself desperately calling to no one.
Then he hit the ground. He awoke with a sudden gasp as the sunlight from his
open bedroom window ordered him to life. When his foggy vision came into
focus he was confused. He felt terribly sick and the screaming was still in what
he had left of a brain. He tried to make it stop by yelling into the window “
STOP, STOP I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE” and his loud pleas were returned by a
young innocent voice. “Daddy?”

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