The Mistake That Broke Me

Chapter Twenty Three: He's Watching Me

Song: 99 by Elliot Moss

*

*

The wind gave way to my cries as I ran down the streets sobbing. Tears flooded my face, washing away a life that I had been damned to live. My tears washed away all the overly done makeup and with it, an identity that I have been trapped in for so long.

But these tears.

They weren't of sorrow, nor pain, nor suffering.

But they were of joy.

Pure joy.

Simply, because I was free.

I was free from a place that held me captive for so long. I was free from their cold hands of evil that wanted nothing more than to drag me down even deeper into the dark depths of despair. The pit of self destruction. The abyss of depression.

But they no longer will reign over me no more. They are no longer a king to rule over me, to control me and to command me.

But, I may be physically free, but mentally, I know my mind will haunt forever and cage me in a life that I once lived.

But will live no more.

And the first step to pushing forwards is to leave far from this place that has held me back for too long. This city has brought me nothing but burdens and bad memories, and now, it is time to leave.

But no matter how far I run, my memories still dwell within me like a flame. A flame that constantly burns and is constantly fed oxygen in order to survive. That flame has been there since the crash.

And it hasn't been put out. I'm convinced nothing could stamp out such prominent memories.

If the professionals and specialists couldn't do it, then who possibly can? It's just something I'm going to have to live with and deal with for the rest of my life.

It feels like I couldn't get far enough from the bad parts of the city. It feels like something's always creeping up on me, ready to pounce and drag me back into the shadows that conceal evil. I'm paranoid and I jump at every single sound.

I didn't know where I was running or even how I was running. Tears still blurred my vision and my body ached so tremendously that I felt faint. A headache pounded against my brain and I wanted nothing more than to sleep forever.

But I must keep going. And when I had sprained my ankle for the third time in the heels I was wearing, I gave up, and tour them off of my feet.

I left them behind in the middle of the street.

My bare feet pounded against the rough asphalt surface, and I could feel every little pebble, every rock, every sliver of glass, burying itself into my feet. I felt the wind through my hair and my tears dried cold against my cheeks.

Freedom burned my lungs and adrenaline filled my heart and veins. There was no stopping. I couldn't. Not when my past was too close behind me. My feet became raw and sore and my sprained ankle throbbed with a painful heat.

I was gasping for air now, I was groaning with each breath and my body felt heavier. I ran and I ran, until I could run no more.

I stumbled.

And fell.

The gray side-walk rushed up to meet me and my hands planted themselves firmly into a puddle that mocked me with my own broken reflection. My hair was disarrayed and my makeup was sliding down my face. I was hunched over, on my hands and knees, gasping for air and taking myself in.