Photo Credit: Jane Rahman (Flickr)

By Carlos Miramon

Today I stared down death. Ready to face my fate, ready to complete the circle.
I have rid of all emotion through a continuous flow, resulting in salty eyes, dripping down over everything I’ve dreamed of, and have done.
Every night, until tonight, have I been curled up in a ball. Under covers that I believed would protect me from the outside world. The tension outside my door says otherwise.
I’ve dealt with those who have pushed me down to the dirt, using their words to dig me a grave, and my bruises to bury me. The place I called “home” was a war zone, only filled with hate, agony, and the tensions outside my door.

Not even my abode is safe, much less humble. There are days when I escape, through melody, peers…
But I feel free when I leave to my place. Deep in the wood, beside a lake, I can feel peace. It calms and protects, I’m disconnected from the world, and sit. Sit and think, wishing that I could stay away, sit alone, forever. But there was one thing that made me think differently. Her.
My beautiful, amazing companion. She who has not abandoned me, as I shared my isolated home. She’s dug me up from my grave, reviving me, giving me a reason to live.
I’ve had enough of it.
After this, I’ll finally be free from pity, free from those who feel as if I’m weak, incapable of moving forward on my own. Yes, that I will be…free. No longer will I have to look up to anyone that’s never helped me, neither those who offered to help. I will care for my own, like I’ve always done so.

But I felt held back, by what I don’t know.
I can’t force myself to jump, the current of lights shines below me, almost a pleasant portal to freedom. I just stare at it. I can’t do it. Though my life has been turned upside down since I can remember, I can’t bear the thought of leaving her.
My best friend.
It was her that was holding me back. All our best memories shroud my vision, mixing in with the traffic below. My best, happiest moments were spent with her. Dare I say that word. Tears break through, I’m blinded from my staredown with death. I stumble back from the ledge and sit. Crying, feeling all the fear, rage, and depression roll down my face.
I can’t do it, and I won’t.
I realized that they showed no pity…

…they cared.

*There will always be someone that cares for you, and to be happy, you have to find it within. -Carlos*

Check out some more short prose here.

One thought on “Pity

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