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Getting Through : Creative Writing

I have nothing

from mia1 - Sunday, October 09, 2005
accessed 1164 times

ah depression and alcohol, what lovely bedfellows...

She stared at her pen and watched the blood flow from its tip, she felt a searing pain across her chest. Her last moments where pain-filled and lonely. She knew she would die. What was a little pain in exchange for the end of pain. Always having to pay, her glazed eyes stared at the bloody pen, this is the ultimate payment. The blood flowed from the wound in her chest, she felt it soak through her night-shirt. The clinging wetness, the warmth leaving her, nothing like she imagined. The pain spread throughout her body, the spasms shaking her limbs, but with it came a numbness, it was frightening. Is this death? She felt as if her heart was held in a vise-like grip that crushed and tore the muscle apart while drop by drop she felt her life-blood being squeezed out. Her eyes gazed at the wound that seemed to grow bigger and bigger as the seconds passed. Her thougths scattered and confused. She held the bloodsoaked suicide note in her hand. Will they miss me? Looking at the gaping hole in her chest, letting the putrid smell of death choke her, she saw. Death in it's true form. She saw the extacy on it's face, she saw the orgasm ripping through it's form as she felt her life leave her, she felt the tremor of pleasure that whispered across its being. She felt alive.
And then darkness.
The Darkness covered her, the Darkness clung to her, the Darkness soaked into her , touching her, clawing at her. She felt her inner core being torn apart , raped. She was being split apart and torn, the violence seeping into her very pores killing every cell every fibre of what she was. She felt the last vestige of her life being sucked away.
Alone, she felt, light, weightless, who was she, where? Incoherent thoughts tumbled about in what was a mind intact. Desperately, she or it tried to understand, peace, somehow that word, it rippled across her being, peace, it echoed again and again through what was left of her. It filled her it drowned her, drawn to a swirling center, she felt peace.
Here admist the swirling colors she let the last remains of her humanity leave her. This time the Darkness, brought warmth, gladness, pleasure. Those words she should know them? Forget, the whisper resonated throughout her entire being bringing orgasmic pleasure into the very center of what was left of her. And she faded.
Death, looked across at the dead flowers that lay atop a marble stone, the moist earth recently moved, and Death remembered. She didn't fight, she didn't cry, instead of fearing, she held death in her arms and she embraced it.


Reader's comments on this article

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from Fish
Monday, December 19, 2005 - 15:53

Mia, who the hell are you? You sound familiar. Where you ever in Japan?
(reply to this comment)
From mia1
Saturday, January 07, 2006, 05:34

sorry dude never been to japan, maybe one day! I'm like one of those invisible people that nobady ever remembers...been mainly in the carribean, US, and Europe..(reply to this comment
From Fish
Saturday, January 07, 2006, 11:40

oh well it was worth a shot.(reply to this comment
From mia1
Saturday, January 14, 2006, 04:49

make that two shots or maybe three....more more keep the tequila flowing!!!! ;)(reply to this comment
Sunday, October 16, 2005 - 18:15


So, death really is the ultimate orgasm.
(reply to this comment)

From mia1
Tuesday, October 18, 2005, 18:32

Death should be the ultimate release from pain. The end. nothing. nada. no concious or existance. (reply to this comment
Wednesday, October 19, 2005, 15:46

That's immediately after death, isn't it?(reply to this comment
From mia1
Thursday, October 20, 2005, 07:27

don't know...haven't died yet! :)(reply to this comment
from ErikMagnusLehnsher
Friday, October 14, 2005 - 15:42


Very nice.
(reply to this comment)

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