Personal Hell

“Well? What do you think?”

I didn’t know how to respond. Even if I did know, how was I supposed to? I was frozen, paralyzed. The only movement I could make was the uncontrollable shaking that had taken my body over.

“Come on, isn’t this what you wanted?”

No, this isn’t what I wanted. I wanted freedom. Not this. Anything but this.

“Not happy with the result?”

Of course not. I can’t stand the thing standing just a few feet in front of me.

“Are you not happy to see me?”

Why would I be? I was lucky enough to not be able to see you. But now, you’re right there. Somehow perfectly visible even in this void.

“Well? Are you going to resist me again?”

I hated it. I hated this thing that plagued me. I hated how it toyed with me, how it controlled me, how it tortured me. Now, I was physically trapped with it.

“You’ve already given up, why don’t we just live in harmony now?”

My feet were glued to the ground, keeping me from running away as it walked towards me.

It spoke in a disturbingly comforting version of my own voice, and its image changed into mine as it got closer. The only difference was that it seemed almost angelic. A clean white dress adorned it’s pale, clear skin and complemented its thin, but not too thin, figure. Its shoulder length hair was a sparkling black, free of any frizz or dead ends.

Each slap of its foot against the invisible floor made me jump. It reached me and cupped its hand against my cheek. Its hand was a fiery cold. It felt like it was turning my cheek to ice.

I couldn’t handle it hovering around me for the rest of my life, how will I ever be able to survive with it being physically right in front of me? Can I even die in a place like this?

“Of course you can’t,” it said, leaning in and whispering in my ear.

I felt tears fill my eyes and I struggled to keep them from pouring out.

“Poor dear, don’t hate me for this tragic end. Hate those that introduced us,” it backed away from me, revealing multiple people that were suddenly standing behind it. All of them being those who did this to me.

I felt my body unstiffen, the paralysis finally letting up. Despite this, I couldn’t bring myself to move. The dozens of hateful eyes watching me with no soul behind them kept me frozen. I felt like if I moved, they would all come running at me, grabbing me and dragging me back to each hell they put me through.

“Look at all of your old friends! Doesn’t it make you happy seeing them again?”

I turned my head to look at it, the slight movement breaking the dam that held my tears back.

“Friends…?” I choked out, “you think these people, these monsters, are my ‘friends’?”

“Well, they were at some point. Why don’t we take a trip down memory lane with-”

“NO!!” I screamed, collapsing onto the floor and curling up into a pitiful ball.

I covered my eyes, not wanting to see the past. But I could hear it. I could feel it. I could feel the sharp grass beneath my legs. I could hear the laughter and threats of multiple boys. I could feel the cold, metal seat I was sitting on. I could hear the disgusted whispers of my peers. I could feel the plastic table my arms were resting on. I could hear the rumors being spread.

I cried and cried for what felt like years. My head was pounding, my body was aching, I was drowning in my own tears and snot. I could feel it standing over me, watching me.

“There’s nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. You trapped yourself here. The only one to blame is yourself.”

“This is what you wanted me to do!” I raised my head and screamed, “every day you told me to end it all! I did what you wanted! Why are you still here?!”

“When did I ever say that suicide will set you free? That was you telling yourself that.”

“…What?”

“All I did was tell you to put an end to it. You were the one who had thoughts like ‘this will set me free’ or ‘I will finally be at peace if I do this.’”

I fell silent. Unable to admit that it was once again right about me.

“You’re a coward. You left those who cared about you behind because you foolishly thought that this would solve everything. You really thought your selfish actions would grant you peace?”

I was only able to take one thing out of that statement, “those who cared?” I repeated, questioning what it just said.

“Of course you were cared about. You really believed me when I said that all the love they showed you was a lie? When all the time they spent with you was a game? You really think they did all they did for you because they were trying to trick you?”

“But…”

“I was the one who tricked you,” it grabbed my hair and pulled me up, “now, you’ve lost everything. And now, they really do hate you for leaving them!”

It threw me back to the ground and let out a distorted laugh. I felt like an idiot. Its words were actually the truth this time, weren’t they?

Once again, I couldn’t move. I could just stare blankly into the void ahead of me as an endless stream of tears ran down my cheeks. The despair in my heart felt like a bottomless pit.

It won the war I had been fighting for years. And within its victory held another prison for me. Only this time, I had no ability to fight against the torture. I was without companions. Only alone, with my worst fear, and worst enemy.

Authors Note: I want this story to serve as a message that suicide isn't the answer, and that mental illnesses such as depression and anxiety are an enemy you should never listen to or take advice from. It's difficult to fight against these illnesses, and it can be easy to be tricked by them, but giving up won't do you any good. Keep fighting, if not for yourself, but for those who care about you. And trust me, there are people out there who care about you. Including me.