Freedom From Imprisonment

Very short and quick story. Trigger warning; Suicide

I’m in my own personal prison. Walls are closing in on me, suffocating my emotions, pushing out my tears. I’m alone, no one to comfort me and no one to hold me. I want to break free but my walls are far too thick.

I don’t know how I got here, don’t know how I got this sad. Maybe it began with him, maybe it began before. I think it’s been building up over time, brick by brick, wall by wall. I look around but there’s only darkness. Some light peaks through the hair-line fractures and I want to feel their warmth but they’re not strong enough.

I don’t want to scream, I don’t want to shout. I don’t want other to get hurt by trying to break down my walls. I want them to be happy, so I make my walls invisible.

---

I sit shaking on the floor of my room, cloaked in darkness. The cool silver metal gun is on the floor in front of me, taunting and teasing me.

“Come on Dylan. Don’t be a girl. Use me, kill yourself. Don’t be afraid, if you use me, all the pain will go away. Can you imagine that? A world void of pain and sadness?”

I can’t, I can’t imagine a world like that. It’s unfathomable to me, pain is all I know. But if the voice says it’ll painless… I’ll take the chance.

I take a deep breath and pick the gun up. It’s weight is heavy in my hands, I can feel it in my chest. I think for a moment, where to put the bullet? I my heart, a slower death? On the side of my head? Quick but not so clean. Or in my mouth, where it’s quick and fairly clean. Mouth it is.

I load the gun and switch off the safety. My escape is here. I’ll finally be free from my imprisonment, free from my pain. I give a small smile to my dark room and put the gun in my mouth. It’s a bitter, metallic taste, and my nose scrunches up. I close my eyes, only furthering the darkness around me. My fingers twitch and I take a deep breath through my nose. No going back to school, no going back to living in secret pain everyday. Just... peace. That’s what I want. My pointer finger squeezes the trigger slowly and I hear a bang. Then… nothing. Freedom.

Reviews

[ClocksontheRadio]

I enjoyed this piece...this first half is stronger than the second. The sensory details and metaphorical entrapment are quite sophisticated and powerful. I can relate intensely to the state of being you are describing through your diction. To me, things start to unravel starting at "I take a deep breath and pick the gun up," the writing becomes simplistic and a bit sloppy (sloppy because of grammatical errors). Though I understand this change in sophistication may be stylistic, as to communicate the nervousness and complexity of making the decision to end one's life (perhaps nervousness is not the right word) but I believe your piece would flow better if you continued the style of the first half into the second.