"The human voice can never reach the distance that is covered by the still small voice of conscience."
--Mahatma Gandhi
Welcome to the playground;
recess has begun!
The minds a bit a mystery;
so come now --
Have some fun!
Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday. Friday. I repeat back to myself so slowly that it seems the amount of time to form the word took the entire twenty-four hour period for it to exist before proceeding to the next. The only time in my life where spare moments of bliss exist; this due in part by the love of my life sitting next to me while we ride the same bus home. As far my dreams could take me it is unfortunately to different destinations that we both depart when it is all over. In the combination of forty five minutes spread across these three days is the only time when I find the jubilation in my soul. That is, if you don't count the times I tried to see how long the blood can drip from my wrist to my elbow before I lose consciousness. The pain of living can be tough when you watch life dissipate in the palm of your hands as I did not long ago. A memory that can only be forgotten in less than an hour a week.
Sunday. I remember it like it were every day as the tragedy is entombed into my heart, mind, and soul. Replaying at varying speeds through my thoughts and in my dreams constantly-consistent-over-and-over-and-over again. Which for all practical purposes, I have decided to label the visions as nightmares rather than dreams. Leaving the church service that day after praying for the happiness of others around the world seems more hypocritical then I can fathom now that I look back on it. The look on their faces during the incident was forgettable, but the stares in the whites of their eyes gave me a sense of love that I never thought I would feel again.
They died as flames and steel smashed their faces like a gory horror picture on the projector screen. My parents perished while staring back at me in a fatal car crash exactly the Sunday before today. I screamed for my mother; URSULA!, but to no avail as my cries were silenced by destruction all around me. Physical and mental destruction, to which brings my body to crumbling ashes and my mind closer to insanity. That's why I sit here talking to the voices like they can actually hear me. To this day I wish their fate were mine. I wish that the great god that is above would have taken me with them. Why must I be cursed to a life without love! Why have I been forsaken to a life of loneliness! WHY?!
BUS DRIVER!: "Calm down, you crazy bitch."
Did I just say that out loud? Fuck, I think I may be talking to myself again and then blurting things randomly aloud. Ever since the tragedy I've only found it comforting to speak within myself. I must have suddenly become overwhelmed and let myself get too carried away. The voices in my head seem to be the only ones whom understand the pain that is life. The only ones who listen. I could never tell Benjamin, my love, about my secrets. I'm never one to take pity as an excuse for apathy as it were, even before the catastrophe. This stands true if history dictates itself from past events when my life was normal as well.
Saturday. The day that is today. I leave my low end job to ride the bus home awaiting another lonely night with my razor blade. Staring at the seat next to me I am unfortunately unable to bring my Benjamin to fruition no matter how hard I try. I never asked, but always assumed that he had some great 9-5 job with the weekends off. I imagine him as a doctor, a teacher, or maybe even a lawyer of some sort. I envision his family as caring and loving. One that is willing to accept someone whom lost their own. In my fantasy he is an impeccable man, the perfect gentlemen, and the ultimate lover. He has to be since he's saved me a seat every day for the last week right next to him in this very spot. The day after Sunday is going to be the first day I talk to him. This time, I won't let the voices drown me out.
Sunday - 12:00 am - The time that is now. Like a rooster on cue the nightmares come to materialize again at the stroke of midnight. The bus stops in an almost abrupt manner as the watchtower tolls over my head and rings in the back of my ears like a never ending migraine. Continuing to penetrate in a swinging motion back and forth inside my brain as if a boxer were delivering alternate punches inside my head. The passengers vanish in a fast forward sort of action in the peripheral world around me as I focused the majority of my efforts conversing with the voices. I can see the former riders now, coming and going like ghosts getting on and off the bus like a wisp of time that is warping my world back into despair. The sadness now takes me back to the activities of latter Sunday.
I close my eyes, begin to pray......
Pray I hope the pain away......
Live to die this very day......
With the disappearance of the chime from the clock tower I feel it safe to gradually open my eyes. The bus still remains stopped and to my delight; my darling, sweet Benjamin steps up from the curb and into the bus. My heart pounds with the patter of his footsteps as he approaches me down the aisle. It's just him and me, and as much in sync our bodies are it's obvious they were meant to be together. His long, white robe and decorative crown means he must be some sort of prince or king from a beautiful kingdom. A literal knight in shining armor! A bit to my surprise he takes the seat directly in front of me this time; however, this comes to me as no avail. I've always wanted to get a better look at him from behind. Something must be different about this day, because of the voices, all they do is listen. I promised myself to call out his name but my confidence is so crushed and confused. Trapped are my thoughts as they try to escape the tip of my tongue. Thankfully, my love turns around, leans over me, and all I do is listen.
Benjamin?: "Bless thee beloved child. In the name of the father, the son, and of the holy spirit."
As he touches me on the forehead I lose all sense of the world around me and fall into the darkness that envelopes behind me. Tumbling in a well of black nothingness as if I were Alice in search of my own wonderland. I can't help but raise some doubt on Benjamin's intentions with his actions. Of all the days, and all the people in the world, I wasn't exactly the one to pull the christianity card on today. I can't help but think that my dear, sweet love was only trying to help me. He's all I want. He's all I need. He's all I have.
I land abruptly on my bed staring up at the ceiling as my eyes fly open to the scene of light. Another dream (nightmare) to torture me it seems. I take this as evidence that I am completely losing my sanity and the condescending words that Benjamin proclaimed are mocking me as they laugh with diligence. I weep uncontrollably as this thought of lost control overcomes me and takes me to my knees. The tears flow like a water facet as I reach for the picture of my mother to hold and comfort me.
Sometimes...... I can feel her heart still beating if I hold the picture close enough to my bosom.
Sometimes...... I can smell her distinctive perfume when I hold it close.
Sometimes...... I can hear her when all I do is listen.
URSULA!: "Settle down now, little one. There's no reason to cry."
Mother, are you talking to me? Can it really be true? But seemingly it can be as her picture climbs out of the frame and the figure of my mother stands before my own two eyes. Overcome with excitement and the ever so longing feeling of happiness to fill my soul I break out in tears again. But this time in joy at the sight of a miracle. Oh, how I've prayed for this.
URSULA!: "Yes, my child, and they have been answered by the grace of myself. I can help make the pain go away and bring you, me, and Benjamin all together again."
Can you do that?
URSULA!: "My dear, sweet child. That's what I do. It's what I live for. To help unfortunate souls like yourself. Poor souls with no one else to turn to."
I think I know who YOU! are. Why should I trust you?
URSULA!: "I admit that in the past I've been a nasty. But you'll find that nowadays, I've mended all my ways. Repented, seen the light, and made a switch. True? Yes.
You will bring us all back together? How?
URSULA!: "Well, I fortunately know a little magic. It's a talent that I always have possessed, and here lately I use it on behalf of the miserable, the lonely, and depressed.
Like me?
URSULA!: "Any poor unfortunate soul. In pain and in need. There's some longing to be LEGENDS, then some want my SOLDIER dead. Those poor unfortunate souls. So sad. So pathetic."
But, if I come with you then I'll never see the light of day again.
URSULA!: "But, you'll have Benjamin."
The choice is an obvious one. I reach for my sharp sense of comfort that has got me through this past week. The only other sense of jubilation in my soul I've had lately was to watch it smear itself in my own blood. Revealing my wrists I see the deep gashes of past performances. A reminder of the small ailments to the pain of life that I would finally put to it's longing end. I move the blade closer to my demise as I feel my heart begin to slow and unfathomable sadness fill my heart. Flashing images in my thoughts of Benjamin and my mother luring me to take the leap towards them.
URSULA!: "Come now, we know that if you wanted to join me before you would have already followed through on that plan. Wouldn't you have?"
I guess mother knows best. I raise the blade to my throat.
URSULA!: "Dante, Damian, now I got her boys. The boss is on a roll! This poor unfortunate soul!"
While watching the life drain from me as I lie on the floor. I blink my eyes in sequence of my heart pumping out to its finality.
blink.blink.blink.blink.blink.blink.
blink.blink.blink.blink.blink.blink.
blink.blink.blink.blink.blink.blink.
Scene fades to death.
----------------------------------
Scene fades to life.
A tall and lanky looking woman is seen pacing in her living room. Dressed in scrubs, it is apparent that the frantic female must have just finished a nursing job earlier in the day. She seems both frightened and anxious as the agitated lady begins chewing her fingernails in a desperate attempt to get the mind off something that is clearly bothering the crazed lunatic. The confused then proceeds to twirl her long flowing brunette hair, in yet what appears to be another nervous tick.
A pile of laundry sits next to her feet that was clearly dropped in disarray. The frenzied freak paces over the spilled contents on the floor as if it is non existent. The rest of the house seems clutter free and in quite neat shape. It's apparent that our lady here must have been overtaken by something, and dropped the laundry at this realization. It is probable that it is a family home of some type by the numerous pictures hanging off the walls and report cards hanging on the refrigerator in the kitchen far off in the background.
The delirious dames pacing comes to a halt as a car pulls into the driveway and from out of it's contents steps a husky blonde male. The proud person's smile tucked back across his face just like his long, broad shoulders tuck back when he walks. The maniac barges out the front door without delay. The Mercedes driving male immediately sees the distraught look on her face and realizes that some sort of issue must be desperate at hand. The agitated woman, in a fit of distraught is unable to formulate coherent sentences in her mumbling fit.
Man: "Calm down Ursula, my dear."
The confident male seems to be able to console what appears to be his wife to a point where she is calm enough to speak.
Ursula: "It's our baby, dear. The bus driver said she was screaming at herself on her ride home today and eventually she fainted!"
Man: "Where is she now?"
Ursula: "In her room, asleep. I thought it would be best that she rest up after her incident."
Man: "Has she been taking her antidepressants? Maybe I should just check on her. I'm sure she's both scared and exhausted."
Ursula: "Please do, dear."
The husband makes his way up the stairs as a knot of worry begins to formulate in his chest and build with each step. Making this one of the longest stair trips of his life, as he seemingly can predict the horror that unfolds immediately when he opens his poor daughter's door. His blood curdling screams perk up his wife's ears as she thought she could comfortably relax on the couch with confidence her husband would make things right. She bounds up the stairs like a canine hearing it's name called by it's owner.
The heartbroken mother's eyes unfold to the abhorrent scene in front of her as the sad blue pupils in the eyes begin to form tunnel vision. The scene around her falls into a category only comparable to a shell shock from a bomb going off near ones vicinity. The child bearer rushes to the side of her husband lurched over her dead baby girl in what seems like slow motion. Ursula slips on the large pool of blood and slides next to her daughter, looking directly into her face and into the white of her eyes. After gathering her feet underneath her, Ursula cradles her daughter's blood soaked and lifeless body in her arms as the tears from both parents mix in the pool of blood beneath their feet. Knowing that any attempt to save her would be feeble, all they can do is hold her and cry. The husband; possibly a priest, begins to give the Last Rites sacrament to his deceased daughter.
Ursula: "Why, Benjamin! Why did god take my baby! WHY?!"
URSULA!: "Calm down, you crazy bitch."
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