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How long has it been now? 10 years? 11? I don't remember anymore. The years have all blended together in my mind. High-school, graduation, university... I can't even remember the difference. I sometimes wish...no, there's no wishing. It never does any good. It only brings the memories back. There's no point in having dreams, for with dreams come only disappointment. From that, nothing good ever evolves.
After that incident so many years ago, I learned of the harsh reality known as life. Despite what your parents want you to believe, eventually, the wonderfully sheltered world they created for you shatters. When that happens, you're thrust into a harsh world where people would steal, kill, lie, or just about anything they can think of as long as they're safe and protected. As long as one's self is happy, everyone else can just go to hell. Who cares right? Everyone has to die eventually, so what if your time comes before you're ready. If life's not fair, death is certainly much less so.
It's that time of year again; I can feel it in my bones. The dreams have also returned. Nightmares of that incident. Like a broken film projector, playing the same scene over and over again. Forcing me to relive every moment of that again and again until I'm woken by the sound of my alarm clock for the start of a new day. My life is routine. Everything from the minute I wake up to the time I retire for bed. Same thing over and over again, so redundant that I grow tired of life. Yet, I can't seem to break away from this routine. I try, but I find myself falling back into this ritual again anyway. Maybe I'm just not ready. Maybe I was meant to live my life like this forever, or at least until I die. I've thought about ending my life early, they say suicide isn't that uncommon, but I guess I'm just scared. Sure I've entertained myself with that idea many times, but I just can't do it. Maybe it's a sign from the higher powers that it's not yet my time...or maybe, it's just a sign of my cowardice. Who knows...
I had a dream last night, amongst the nightmares, I had a dream. It was one that I haven't had in many years. My parents were there. My mother was holding me, like the way she used to before it happened. My father was smiling down at me, holding up a puppy for me to inspect. It was a black Labrador retriever. I've always wanted one. I think this dream was happening on my tenth birthday. The one I never got to spend with my parents. The first birthday I never had. After that incident, I just gave up on birthdays. Who needs to grow older when all you want is to go back in time. Back to the time before it happened. Back to the time when everything was still right. When everyone was still there. Who needs time...? Who needs to grow up...? Who wants to grow up? Not me.
At this point, you're probably wondering what I've been going on about. What is this incident I keep rambling on about? Well if you really want to know, then you're just going to have to stick by me until I feel up to talking about it in detail. I may be many things, but a masochist I am not. Then again, I guess I owe it to you to by now, since you've stayed this long in my messed up ramblings. So I guess I'll tell you.
It all happened when I was about nine. I got into a fight with my parents, yes you can have fights at nine. I guess I always was rebellious, but that's besides the point. As I was saying, I got into a fight with my parents and being the "tender" age of nine, I made a stupid choice and decided to run away from home. So that night, I packed my bags and my stuffed dog, no not a bear, I did say I was rebellious didn't I? Anyway, I took all the stuff that I deemed necessary at that time and snuck out of the house after dinner when my parents were watching television. Since I was nine, I was still scared of the dark, there I admitted it, so I did the only thing I could think of, I hid in my friend's tree house from across the street. About ten minutes later, I see my dad running out of the house calling my name. He looked so panicked, but at the time, I was actually proud of myself. Anyway, the first place he'd look, naturally, is at my friend's house, and in their tree house. How come he didn't find me you ask? Well you see, the tree house was built only for kids, so they had to send my friend up to check if I was there. Being best friends and all, when he saw me shake my head and ask him not to tell, he of course didn't tell. That was the biggest mistake I've ever made. The next thing I see is my parents getting into a car and speeding away, no doubt in search of me. When I had been sure they were gone, I snuck back home and waited, wanting to surprise them. Only, I had been the one on the receiving end of the surprising that night, for only half an hour later, the phone rang. It was the police calling from the hospital a few miles down. My parents had gotten into a car accident, colliding head on with a minivan. Everyone had died. My parents, and those in the minivan. They all died, because of me.
Well, that's my sob story. I never did forgive myself, but I did allow myself the pleasure of suppressing all my pain and guilt. If I hadn't, who knows how much more messed up I'd be now than I already am. Then again, maybe not. I could also very well be dead by now. If I had just allowed myself to wallow in all the pain and guilt, I might not have built this wall around myself, nor have given myself this daily routine which keeps me somewhat sane. I might have had the courage to just kill myself and end it.
Maybe one day, I'll find it in myself to break free of this shell I created. This routine that I set up for fear of anymore surprises in my life. Maybe one of these days I'll decide that I've had enough and just leave everything behind. Start a new life. Maybe one day I'll find enough courage to pull that trigger... Maybe...maybe....maybe...... Ah the wonders of maybes...they can give you hope, help you dream. Hell, they may even give you the strength to believe. Believe in the same world you believed in when you were little. When you were still sheltered... Who knows, maybe one day I'll learn to believe in that too again, but until then, I think I'll just stick with my routine life. At least that way, I'll be able to forget...if just for a little while.
 D i c h o t i c · Thu Dec 08, 2005 @ 08:29pm · 2 Comments |
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