Nine Lives

Thinking long and hard about this doesn’t do me any good.  There’s nothing left that can help me.  I’ve exhausted all options, all of my resources, and have done everything to get it to stop, but it just won’t.  I can’t stop my never-ending, ceaseless, chronic suffering and pain.  There is no reason for me to suffer through this, none worth doing so anyway.  I don’t feel worthless or empty, nor do I fear that people won’t remember me.  In fact, I’d rather people forget me, forget who I was, and forget that I ever existed.  I don’t want to be remembered, not now, not ever.  The only thing in the world that I want to do is die.  And that’s why I’m here at this bridge, to end it all, to bring an end to this suffering.

No one is here to stop me.  The road is empty.  No cars are coming, no cyclists are zooming by, no one lives within even a close proximity to where I am.  All there is is a nearby cave and the hundreds of feet below this bridge that make up my drop.  No one here would care if I was gone anyways.  Long gone are my days in the limelight.  I don’t care about the sorrow of others.  No amount of sadness or pity will stop me from ending my life here and now.  

This was my mentality what felt like just a few moments ago.  Over the course of what felt like moments ago, I took the plunge off of this bridge, having full intentions on taking my own life.  But the moment I was about to hit the ground, I was back on the bridge, my body oriented towards the ground.  I fell back onto the guardrail, gasping for air, having expected my body to be crushed by gravity once I had made contact with the ground.  Only then did the horrors begin for me.

From the cave nearby, I began to hear an echoing voice, calling out to me.  
“You’re looking a bit pale there, kiddo.”

My neck nearly popped as it snapped in the direction of the voice. 

“Whatcha doin’ up there?  You look like you’re close enough to fall?  Whatcha doin’ champ?”
It sounded just like the voice of someone I knew from a long time ago, like a coach or mentor that I had at one point in time.  I couldn’t see where it was coming from, but it sounded like it was emanating from that cave.  I peered down at the entrance from where I stood, but I couldn’t make out anyone down at the entrance.  The voice spoke again, this time, it questioned me with a snarl interlacing the voice.  

“I asked you a question, didn’t I?  Whatcha doin’ up there?”

I found myself stuttering out of fear, but managed a reply. “I-I came here to jump off of the bridge.”

The voice roared with laughter.  “Well, are you gonna do it?  There’s no point in wasting your time if you’re not gonna do it.”

I looked down at the ground again, contemplating my choices and weighing the consequences of jumping; something I had done before but was now reconsidering.  This voice, whatever it was or whoever it belonged to, it made me start to reconsider my initial decision to stand up on this bridge.  That was until it changed its tune.  Like the flip of a dime, the voice snarled at me again.  “Then why don’t you jump?”

I asked sheepishly “Why do you want me to jump?”

“Because you’re not worth the time that it took to get here.”  I fell back against the railing, torn as to what I should do next.  

“I thought you didn’t want me to die.”  As I said this, I began to question whether or not I was simply hallucinating the entire affair.  There should be no way for this to be possible.  I should already be dead.  

The voice spoke again, but I spun around as I heard the voice come from behind me.  An inhuman figure stood before me.  It was several feet away from me, taking up space along the median line of the road.  Even from this distance, I could make out most of its figure.  It was a tall, dark figure, one that’s entire body was cloaked in darkness.  But the face, and the eyes, they were unlike anything I had ever seen.  The eyes seemed to glow red within long slits along the white glowing face.  I couldn’t tell whether or not this was a ghost, demon, or something far worse.  It twisted it’s head, making a large snap as it did.  “You’ve chosen to give up your life and have chosen to awaken me out on this bridge.  If you do not release yourself now, I will claim your soul as my own and use you to help me fight the Elder one.  Make your choice now, kiddo.  I’m running out of patience”  I turned back to face the edge of the bridge.  I readied myself to jump, but hesitated as my coat got caught on the railing.  I turned around and saw the figure take a step forward and fell off of the bridge as the edge of my coat ripped.  

I was back up on the bridge again, only this time, the part of my jacket that ripped was still there on the railing where it tore during my last fall.  The figure laughed at me again.  “Don’t you get it yet, cool cat?  You’ve gotta give up your soul and let go of all of your lives.”  I didn’t understand this madness at first when I took my first jump, but now it all made sense.  I had a number of lives I had to make it through before I could truly die, and this thing wanted me dead.  But, with the threat of a possible fate worse than death on the line, I had to try to escape.  I tried to run left, but the figure materialized itself there.  I turned around and the figure was facing me again at the exact same distance on the other side of the bridge.  I tried to run to my vehicle but the figure in a bout of inhuman strength and power managed to throw the vehicle off of the bridge.  There’s no escaping this.  Whatever this thing is, it wants me either to die or to claim my soul, and I haven’t figured out which could be worse.  I’m writing this all down now in hopes that perhaps someone will be able to figure out what happened here and that maybe my death will play into something bigger than myself, something that actually means something and can help others.  There are greater powers at play that I have no knowledge of other than those at play in front of me.  If I’m going to die, I want to die on my own terms and not become the tool of the figure facing me.  This will be the third jump.  Hopefully this will end sooner than I expect it to.


I took a fourth.  Came back the same way.  The figure started to emit voices, voices that surrounded me from all angles.  “Your soul will help me fend off the Elder one.  Join me in your final slumber.”  I’m not going to stop writing down how many times until I stop.  The figure keeps growing closer.  Each jump causes my surroundings to grow darker.  If I’m going to die, I want to die on my own terms.  This next jump may be the last, but if it isn’t, then I’ll keep counting until I cannot count anymore.  I’ll go on my own terms.











Popular posts from this blog

Carnivorous Encounters

The Monsters In My Mind (Why I Started Writing Horror Stories)

The Playwright