Death, Unstay Thy Hand
I dabble a little in a lot of things — writing, webcomics, gaming, photography, web design, music, and more. I’m a full-time code-wrangler with far, far too much to do.
I have taken my own life more times than I can count. I have slashed open my wrists, bleeding out in minutes. I have fired bullets into my brain. I have poisoned myself. Stood in front of moving vehicles. Jumped from high towers. Drowned.
And yet, my body resolutely refuses to remain dead.
No matter how many times I die, no matter how many different ways, I always return. Sometimes in a matter of minutes. Sometimes within hours. Or weeks. The longest death I have experienced was eight months, and even then I returned. It is as though Death itself has evaluated me -- and somehow found me wanting.
I have given up all hope. Life has become unbearable, and I can find no respite, no solace in it. What peace I had hoped to find has eluded me. There is no rest to be found even in those brief periods between life because, for me, they pass in an instant.
Death has stayed its hand, and so I live in everlasting torment.
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
Comments (2 so far!)
Just as an FYI, I put a Mature flag on this just because of the triggery nature of that first paragraph.
- #1130 Posted 3 years ago
Immortality has its bad moments.. :)
- #1160 Posted 3 years ago
- Published 3 years ago.
- Story viewed 11 times and rated 0 times.
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