Not Ready..

Cynthia

I slice up my skin, blood pouring out. I go deeper. ‘STOP!’ I think to myself, but I just can’t listen to myself. The thoughts in my head clouding my brain, stopping me from telling myself reasons as to why I should stop. It burns. It burns so so much and the bleeding won’t stop. I make another cut but this time pain more intense than ever before shoots up my arm. I fall down, tears falling down my face like a waterfall. Everything starts to go blurry. I try to stop the bleeding but it doesn’t seem to be affected. I know I’ve gone too deep this time. “MOM! MOMMY...P-PLEASE HELP!!” I scream, sobs breaking apart my sentence. Feet pound into the floor frantically rushing towards where I am. The door handle jiggles and my mom yells for me to unlock the door. I start to get up only to collapse. “I can’t! Mom I can’t get up!” I cry. I hear my mom scream for my dad and another set of feet pounding into the ground. Everything around me starts to go dark. I sob louder and repeat “I’m not ready to go yet.” over again and again. BANG! BANG! BANG! The door comes flying inwards. My mom and dad scream and mom calls 911. My dad rushes to me and tries to stop the bleeding but to no avail. I hear sirens as my eyes start to close. “Baby don’t close your eyes, stay awake. Please baby girl don’t leave us.” My dad says, holding my head in his hands, tears falling down his face and landing on my cheeks. Four sets of feet smack the tile and my dad is pulled away from me. “Daddy..I...Sorry. I didn’t..mean to..go...this...deep. I love you guys….so much.” I struggle to get the words out as my eyes close. I can hear my parents screaming for me to open my eyes. The feeling of being moved lets me know I’m being taken to the ambulance.  Then it all goes blank. The screaming fades and the feeling of the vehicle moving fades away too. I try to open my eyes but when I manage to do that I don’t see anything. “Child, choose your path, death or home. You’re very close to dying, you haven’t much time to choose. Choose wisely.” a voice says. Somehow it’s comforting and I look to my left only to see a small screen showing my parents crying and I’m laying in a hospital bed, the heart monitor is slowing. I’m confused, how long have I been out? “ Two days, the doctors have told your parents to prepare themselves because they believe you won't make it.” The voice says. I look to my right and see another screen, it looks so beautiful, there’s a garden and families there, it draws me closer. “Be warned, once you touch a screen you can’t go back.” After the sweet angelic voice says that I look at my hand to see it’s only a centimeter away from the heavenly screen. I yank it back and think. ‘Would they even miss me? Or is it better for me to just leave them?” I walk back over to the screen showing my parents and see my heart has stopped and the nurses are trying to restart it. My mom is screaming and cries; I know what my decision is. “Hurry child it’s almost too late!” the voice screams. I quickly reach my hand out and touch the screen, feeling a surge through my body. “We have her back!” someone yells. I open my eyes only to be blinded by a very bright light. “M-mommy?” I say, my voice raspy from the lack of water. “Oh my god! She’s awake Charles!! SHE’S AWAKE!!!” my mom screams before rushing to give me a tight hug. I go to say watch out for my arms but notice they feel perfectly fine. When my mom releases me I’m engulfed by another person. The smell of my dad’s musky odor fills my nose and I squeeze him tight.  I let go and look at my arms expecting to see stitches or something but no, all I see is fresh scars, as if the wounds magically healed. “I did that darling, I’m your grandmother and I’m glad you chose the right path. Now live on and live the best you can.” the voice from before rings in my head. I smile and cry. When my parents ask what’s wrong I explain EVERYTHING to them starting from when the bullying first started and finishing with grandma healing me. They let out sobs and and hug me tightly. 4 months later and now I’ve gotten the help I need, I started a new school and I’m no longer bullied. It’s amazing. I’m trying to make grandmother proud by living my life best I can.

  • Author: Cynthia Whittaker (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: May 9th, 2019 10:48
  • Category: Short story
  • Views: 12
  • User favorite of this poem: Mads.
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Comments1

  • dusk arising

    What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

    Peace and harmony.

    • Cynthia

      Agreed 🙂



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