Memories

TRIGGER WARNING

I have a feeling of apprehension as I watch myself trundle my punctured bike through the desolate paths. Even though I already know what happens, I can’t help but look at the same memory over and over again, in case there was something I missed, in case there was someone there who could have rescued me. I’ve been searching for an answer that I just can’t find. The turbulent, stormy grey clouds gathered ominously above me, closing me off from the entire world, causing my hairs to rise and my senses to be heightened, watching the area around me, forcing myself to keep my exhausted eyes open for any living creatures that may strike out at me. I heard every sound that was around me, every breath the trees took. Storm clouds converged with the sky above me, waves broke below the cliff. I thought that when I fell down, I would keep crawling. 

When I regained consciousness, it was 5 AM (by my watch) and now I can tell that this story was never going to end well, no matter if anyone else was there. But, I thought then, if I died there it wouldn’t be so bad, I could escape all the nightmares I’ve had. It had felt like I’d been fighting internal enemies all my life. If I died, I could be freed of them in the simple blink of an eye. It would be as if they never existed. Now, of course, I regret ever thinking that at all. Now I would be ecstatic to hear just a single real voice in this vast nothingness. Sometimes I think I hear people speaking, talking to each other, then I realise that it’s merely my imagination, reliving the good ol’ days. 

Of course, the good memories are phenomenal... Just living good times with my family and friends, the nights you stay up late driving around or those times you just hang out and play games or that camping trip that everyone went to and actually had fun... Or times that when you listen to a song and it makes you think of those moments... All those “first times”... The first time you kissed someone… The first time you heard your favourite band live… The first time you tried your favourite food or when someone did something for you that just changed your life in such an amazing way... There are so many good memories, so don't let any of them slip past you and always remember the good times... Those are my favourite memories….

Then, there are the bad memories. The ones that I never want to revisit. When all I wanted to do was sit in the corner of my room and cry. When I had to put myself together in the mornings just to break down again at night. I got told lies that were to “protect me” but in the end just destroyed me. Before I died, I was a failure. Every day I had to pretend that I was fine, That I was “just tired”. The pain never went away. It followed me, even unto death. Every night, I laid awake, unable to sleep, held captive by my own thoughts. 

I still lie awake at night, but it’s no longer because I can’t sleep. Now it’s because I’m dead. It turns out that dead people can’t sleep, or eat, all they can do is watch their memories of before. When they were alive. Having to relive the one thing you really don’t want to is the worst part of the afterlife, but us deceased are compelled to by an unseen force. 

I was never afraid of death, but to think of how I would hurt others if I did die. So I put a block in my mind, one that stopped all the anger and pain from flooding out, so I could stay strong for the people that I loved the most. That small pebble held back a massive wave of feelings. But that night, it was corroded by the waves and left me sobbing, broken, defeated. I was left in the middle of a forest, with a broken bike. There was no way out for me, no way that I could have gone to save myself from my own death. For a while, I just lay there, watching the leaves dance to their own music above me. I watch myself sit up, confused and alone, trying to work out why I was lying on a green tangle of leaves and branches. I stood up, shaking the fallen leaves from my clothes, brushing off the soil. I walked to the edge of the cliff, looking over the edge, wondering if it would be worth it. The waves crashed into the cliff below, corroding underneath, constantly leaving their mark. I visualised myself falling like a rock, a single pebble within millions, never noticed, always ignored, overlooked, neglected. The wind whispered to me, urging me not to. I decided against jumping. There were too many people in my life who I needed to stop doing exactly this. I spun around, planning on going back home and sleeping off my night of chaos and uncertainty. The sun started to rise, turning the sky salmon pink, chasing the clouds away.

I noticed the tree too late. 

The branch caused me to reel back, losing my balance. I plummeted into the chasm. As I fell, I didn’t see my life flash before my eyes, like people say happens. Instead, I watched the sunrise before me, never being able to tell the difference between the sea and the sky. I felt the wind, sharper than the Devil’s kiss, stab my cheeks, leaving red marks like blood on my face. When I hit the bottom, the memory stopped, leaving me empty and more alone than I have ever felt before, in the unfathomable darkness of the afterlife.

You don’t get to say goodbye.

It’s almost like a jolt.

Then you die.

No warning.

Just. 

Gone.