Over

I just want everything to be over. Help me Mom.

The pain was unbearable.

The boy's shout resonated said pain and his hands clawed at the sheets as he tried to regain consciousness at each prickly wave. The pain being similar to the feeling of being stabbed endless by an ice pick. Cold, chilling, and after that, numbness.

He was at the bed, back arching as if his sinful soul's been exorcised by faithful exorcists, though this boy has no faults at all. He never did.

His wide eyes didn't look everywhere but at the ceiling. As if his line of sight's stuck there with a gruesome spell. His thoughts weren't better.

He thought of the ocean. The wide ocean wherein above is just a blue appearance, but then below is much more wide and abundant than one may think.

Now you must be wondering why he's thinking of the ocean now. It's no joke, it's weird to think about that when you're at the brink of your death.

His normal life is no more. For what seemed to be the blue hue of innocence, turned into something of a black grave facade. His whole being that once walked above the liquid surface now sunk, slipped, and was left drowning on what seemed to be the deepest darkest depths of one's life.

Wherein even the ocean could have its dark, darker, and darkest, and maybe beyond the darkest places under the sea. Then every thing could also have it.

He sunk, and was amazed at how colorful the dark place is. It was like a paradise that only one knew and one may see once in his lifetime.

He slipped, as the colors faded away and he realized that there was nothing to hold unto. That there was no escape of the slow fall.

He drowned, when all safety left his being, and all that's left was blankness and abyss. Nothing but yourself in there.

All was black. Then he was brought back to the present with another wave of pain.

"I can't take this anymore…" he whimpered in the most pitiful tone that he could muster. A figure moved above him.

"Just a little more, I'll get you out of your misery…" the figure whispered in a pained voice.

That figure is his mother.

Nothing new, just a mother being a good mother. Wherein she wanted nothing but what's best for her son, and that is to rid of his pain and suffering.

"Mom, I just want my normal life back…"

"It's going to be alright honey. Stay still." His sweet mother brought him encouraging words that meant no harm.

Yet he was still drowning inside, and something was pulling him to the darkest bottom of the ocean.

"Mom, please, help me.." His voice that came out was hoarse and dry from choked sobs. His face red and breath heavy, sweat dropped down from his for head to his neck and this sight itself represented his suffering.

"I'm gonna remove it now, don't struggle else it'll be worse for you. Bear with me, dear." Focused, she pushed up her glasses and used a rag to wipe off the sweat from her son's neck as she worked on his arm, trying to rid of the pain that it caused them.

"Mom what's happening..?" He asked quietly, no more energy to actually shout nor complain.

Something was holding him back, he just couldn't see it. And the only things that he could grab on was the bed sheets and his mom's calm and caring voice.

His stomach rumbled. He was hungry. How many days has it been since they ate any thing? He couldn't remember. Another wave over powered the hunger. He couldn't even speak anymore. Just ragged gasps escaped his dry flaky lips.

The mother looked down at him and inhaled slowly, "There there, it's nothing but a wee scratch darling."

À sharp sound was heard near the boy's side, then a slice. Afterwards was a scream. Another slice, then another scream. His eyes were no longer wide. It's now blank and dazed with no thoughts in particular.

But one thought remained. That the one pulling him back, is somewhere near him. His mom blinked and wiped another drop of sweat.

"All we need is your arm, and our suffering'll be over soon enough. Stay strong darling."

Author's Note

Okay, I was creeped out by this. I don't think it has a plot or whatever. Just my inner darkness; please excuse it.

Honest criticism is needed.