The Nothing

Important note:

This story contains themes of depression, substance abuse, and self harm. Please read with caution.

My eyes never close. 

I do not feel tired. The lull of sleep does not rest behind my eyes, the drowsiness that was heavy as barbells absent from my head. 

I remember the feeling of being tired all too well. I remember it as an all-consuming entity that plagued my mind, my body its host. Fatigue and wariness seeped into every pore in my dull skin, every nook and cranny of my human body. 

I could not lift my arm without extreme effort. Keeping my eyes open was too much to ask and I could not have been bothered. The mere action of existing was like dropping a stone into a pond; I could not swim even if I tried. 

And I tried. I really did. 

I grasped at anything to keep me afloat, to keep my head above the raging tidal waves that thrashed me about until finally, it dragged me under. 

My efforts were for nothing, and this I have accepted long ago. 

So I let myself sink.

Down I went, deeper into the depths, embracing the silence, basking in the darkness. 

Now, instead of that pull behind my eyes, the pull that coerced me back to bed, away from the iniquity of the world where I could tuck myself away and hide underneath the safety of my blankets, I feel nothing. 

The nothingness does not feel empty like it used to. Instead of a deep void that lived in my heart, the Nothing feels light. It feels free. 

The concept of time has not existed to me since the Nothing has taken over. 

And oh, what a delight it has been, to not have to yield to the demands of human life, to no longer bow to a society of inequitable imbalance. 

I have no recollection of the change. I have nothing to go off of except for the utter lightness that has taken over my mind. 

I have no body anymore, no host for the plague of humanity to take over. No body for sickness to engulf, no body to drag me through the days I thought were numbered, the number I had set for myself. 

Finally. 

Finally, I am more than just a lump of flesh wasting away in my bed, watching the days go by and the number get smaller. 

Finally, I do not have to mold myself into a shape I am ill-fit for, finally, I do not have to set myself up for failure to conform to the standards of what it means to be human. 

Finally. 

I know what it is to be free, thanks to The Nothing. 

The Nothing was not made to withstand the destruction of humans. 

The Nothing cannot be touched by human fingers. It cannot be seen by human eyes. 

No human exists in The Nothing. 

Here, we are just byproducts of the human race; a beautiful creation plagued by incessant greed and immoralities that result in the only escape that I used to know as death. 

But what comes after death? 

What comes after the one thing that humans fear more than anything else in their world?

The Nothing. 

I know now what I did not when I was living. 

If I had this knowledge when I was alive, I would have ended myself sooner. 

To know that I was so close to freedom but denied myself it so many times because I was thinking of what others would think of me would make my human eyes weep. 

Sometimes I get glimpses of memories that flash in my mind like a beam of light streaming through the surface of water. 

It passes so quickly that I can hardly see what it means to portray. 

But sometimes, I see an image. 

I see a face I think I recognize. 

A woman’s face. A soft jaw, a small nose, and sad, sad eyes. Eyes so full of sorrow that I wish I could tell her how close she is to her own salvation if only she’d push aside the fear as I had. 

She is crying. 

She must be weeping over me. 

I suspect she knew my human self. 

I think the fact that someone was crying over my absence would cause a twinge of regret in my human heart. 

But I do not dwell on what once was. 

I turn away from the image. 

I recite to myself what I know. 

A gateway of freedom presented itself to me in the form of a few orange pill bottles and a plastic bag. I felt blissful as air escaped my lungs and I felt the urge to struggle to breathe. 

I did not give in to struggle. I embraced it. 

I remember the last thoughts I had. They lingered in my human mind like dust in an empty room that was once full of light and life.

I remember thinking that I was doing the right thing, that I was granting myself this mercy and that I deserved to be rid of the burden of human life. 

Because I did deserve it. One way or another, I would give myself the pleasure of being free of the life I once led. 

I remember taking my last few breaths as a human. 

Then, my life truly began as my human heart finally stilled. 

Time stood still as I entered The Nothing. For a moment, a shadow of a doubt flashed into existence before extinguishing itself from the world. Because now I have entered a new plain of existence. 

And now, it is where I thrive. 

What will become of my body? That I do not know, and I am OK with the uncertainty. 

All I care to know is that I am here now. 

After years of mistreatment and neglect, I am here now. I made it to the end. I made it to The Nothing. I can be free, I can be nothing more than something that once was, and this I am OK with. 

Finally. 

I am free.