Night and Day: A Short Story
The light slowly rose to kiss my face that morning. I thought the night would never end. I grimaced and closed my eyes, reluctant to greet the day just as eyes gradually adjust to the light once it's been in the darkness for too long. I'm sure I had tossed and turned last night for hours; just as a ship lurches around in a dark, wavy storm. I checked my mental watch; my countdown from when I had last been happy and actually satisfied with life: 27 days. What had I done since then? I'm sure I had done something, but it wasn't important right now. What was crucial was to get up, face the day, and get back to sleep. Success meant surviving the day and landing precariously in bed; yet only to end up reflecting and thoughtfully climbing into the past with my mind instead of sleeping. I knew my existence was worth more, but all that was left was this. I shook my head and groaned internally at the thought of going to work and pasting a smile upon these lips. I shrugged it off and got up slowly and carefully; like a soldier preparing into battle. But with no general, no comrades; just a lonely fight versus the world, but more than likely against myself. Combating these stupid idiosyncrasies hiding in the deep corners of my brain: past mistakes that defined who I was and who I wasn't; others' tragedies that compelled mine to be put in focus more acutely. Why must one person's decision catapult sadness in my heart and soul like an avalanche? That's it: I felt buried alive with no escape...trapped beneath fluffy layers of abandonment and loneliness that acted as armor; protection from the fires of life on this earth. As my eyes focused on the light protruding through the window panes, I gripped the sadness around me like a security blanket, turned slowly, and willed my steps to go forward.