Survival

Pain-worthy love story

I read the messages she used to send me. It retained a weak aroma of my past. These messages are all I am left with. Distorted by my tears. Blessed by her existence.  Nothing, enormously nothing I can do would bring her back. Nothing can erase the past. Yet I am trying hard to stroke off these wounds. Making swiftest of cuts. Unconsciously, I tried, only to get lost in the spider web, of love and terror, of hurt and fear and the ever present danger of the future. I bend onto them, trying to hunt down my solitudes, one after the other. But they eluded me, like I am trying to grab burn in my fist. I resorted to them. Lay all my trust. Lost in the mists of time, I am. As lost as my trust, I am. Yet unaware, I tried to hold on while my tears fell thick and fast. Only to empty myself within. It was all about vacant eyes and smothered sobs. A indication of the worthlessness that lay before me. And my smothered existence. I lay battered. With my opinion, coagulating into lumps of blood. My life slowly ebbed away; every breath becoming a task to accomplish. Memories flashed in front of my eyes. And they too lay there. Like naked corpses, mocking my survival, celebrating the end, the End of my survival and the world’s victory. The victory of evil and the ridicule of those who tried to stop them, unsuccessful. I symbolize a lifetime of pain. Unknown to them. Sacred to me. There was hope for me after all. My battered Soul, freed from the prison of mortality took in the first breath of Freedom. Aboard the thought trail, I am. Undeterred by attendance. Too dignified.  They questioned my victory.

She was one of them.

She heard nothing but screams. Of her principles. Of my hate. I am the magician that night. Her truth was revealed to me slowly, through the letters messages I had received in my inbox. Her deception unfurled. Her words were deceptive. Wrapping my soul into an abyss of nothingness. I am trying to break free from the velvet shackles, my Soul begging for release. I asked for her help. She agreed. We were at the extremities of the abyss. There would only be a Survivor. fraud, was it? Deception, it was. Her survival meant my Death. So she chose what mattered more.  She was torn between the right and the wrong. But there existed none.

 

Author's Note

Read, re-live and retire.

Reviews

[gloomysundays]

I very much enjoy short stories. I liked yours a lot. The grammar is somewhat off and the structure bothers to me to the infinite but the story plot itself was very interesting. I liked the two characters you presented although it isn't very clear exactly what was going on. It was a good balance between too much information and mystery. I like your imagery as well, I could practically see everything your character described. It was well-written.

I feel like the title doesn't really give it justice but that is up to the author. Anyways, good luck in your future writing.

Cheers.
74/100