I Woke Up

 I woke up, but didn’t open my eyes. Few moments later, I realized that I even couldn’t open my eyes. I know what had happened, but I’m too afraid to admit it. I have to touch my eyes to be sure it really did happen, but knowing it wouldn’t change the fact that it did happen.



 Panic started to possess my mind. I needed to touch my eyes just to be sure, even if it were to prove that the worst had happened. I would already have done it, but something felt wrong: I didn’t feel any pain in my eyes.



 Before I could make up anything else in my mind, I heard something, something from distance. I couldn’t tell what it was, it could have been footsteps, but whatever it was, it was coming closer. I started to become hysterical, and that’s when I noticed it.



 When I tried to move my right arm, nothing. My left arm, no feeling either. All of a sudden my whole body got overwhelmed by this, the feeling of numbness. It felt like there were only my thoughts left of myself.



 Even shocked, I could still somehow hear something, possible footsteps, dissipating. I didn’t know what to do. Should I scream for help? He or she, or even it, could be the one who did this to me, but he or she could also be the only one to help me.



 I came up with the conclusion that if it were the one who did this to me, it already knew where I was. So it might be even better if it was him or her, so this would soon be over once and for all. So I screamed. I screamed as loud as I could. I screamed so long, that it felt like hours - just to find out that i couldn’t make a sound. It was like I didn’t even have a mouth, like I never had had one. I didn’t hear footsteps anymore.



 It felt like time had stopped. I was just laying there, paralyzed. Somehow I came think of such a simple question: who am I? I… I didn’t know. I really didn’t know. Did I have amnesia? No, no I had to know at least my mom’s na… My dad’s na… Jesus Christ, I really didn’t remember a thing!



 That was the breaking point. Now nothing mattered anymore. I didn’t see a thing, I didn’t feel a thing, I didn’t even fucking remember a thing. Without the little, pathetic voice inside my head, I would have been good as dead, which I started to wish I was. It’s a horrific thing to wish to be dead, but after everything to live for has been taken from you, death starts to sound something so heavenly.



<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:12px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;"> Footsteps, I could hear them again. That someone was approaching, and this time… I just hoped this purgatory would come to an end. The steps were closing, you could already tell they were footsteps. So, this was the end, huh…?

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<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:12px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;"> I felt something in my eye, and with it came the pain. It hurt so much, but still I felt joy. I could feel something, so I was actually alive. I sensed that it was a tear: a tear of agony and happiness. This single tear was the proof, that I was alive. Now I could die in peace, knowing that once I had lived.

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<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:12px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;"> The footsteps were really close now, and I heard a door opening. Somebody entered the room, and came closer to me. That someone stared at me, I could feel it. To my surprise, I heard it take a few steps back and go back to where it came from.

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<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:12px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;"> Was… Was I going to live? But… But why… My thoughts were interrupted, when I heard from a distance a little girl’s voice. She said “dad, why is my doll crying blood?”.