The mind is the biggest enemy of the body. I used to think that if there were anything wrong with me, I'd never know it. I'd never experience pain due to my body not knowing it's in pain. Yet when I felt pain, it was me who told me I wasn't in pain. It was me who spouted the nonsense of, " just keep pushing forward." And " that pain will go away soon." It seems the brain is the only thing strong enough to kill itself. I bring this up because my thoughts have always been different. They've been like a shadow watching over me. Judging my every move, laughing when I fail, taunting me when I succeed. I can sit for hours days and listen to my thoughts. My brain jumps from one failure, one subject to another, then another, then to my ultimate goal. Death.
I dream of it. I dream of a world where I don't have to live in it, where I don't feel any pain. That world must be perfect, a world without me. A world without my voice. These thoughts and more run circles in my head as I lay there. I look over to the clock resting on my countertop. 3:47 am, early in the morning. A new touch for me, a new sensation, rushes through me as I lay there on the couch. I couldn't even make it to my bed, couldn't even bask in self-pity under the blankets of my downfall. I twist and turn as the ticking of the clock goes forward. The rain outside is now louder than ever. That, along with my thoughts and the clock, takes a piece of me. All these sounds, all these noises, play one at a time. In series with my sanity, I'm slowly slipping away—being chipped, like a swordmaster cutting down an enemy.
The anger of that soldier sent away from family and friends. His emotions are overflowing as he takes a life for the first time. That rush, the blood-gurgling pain, is felt throughout my body. My eyes are bursting into flames as I sway back and forth. In tune with the clock, in sync with the rain, my memories of past lives, past demises flow through me. From diseases to sacrifice to assassination to chivalric valor. In a split second, all things stand still. I've reached my breaking point; I'm at my limit. The sadness took over, and it became such a critical thing that it seemed to stand on its own until I saw it, in the corner of my room in the corner of my eye.
A shadowy figure stood motionless and breathless. It spoke non, yet said a thousand phrases. I couldn't hear anything. This commotion only added to my overload. As the blood trickled down my cheeks from my eyes, I could barely see its arms reach out. I could scarcely move in fear as its mouth opened. The voices of a thousand demons rung in my head as stillness broke. In between the millions and eons of words, I could make out one. Dead Man, that's when I knew it picked me that's when I knew I was selected. When that was the only word, I could hear. Was my name, my calling. I smiled, and time unfroze.
I blinked, and the rain began anew. The clock stopped ticking, and the figure was gone. The clock sprung 3:50 AM. My restlessness took over, and I laid on the couch, now freed in my mind. The voices that were against me, now gone. The figure took them with it. My mind was sedated for another day. The bloodied tears hurt me no more, and the pain was gone; I felt free. I drifted off into my dreams, where I dreamt of her. The girl I met, I never got her name, not any social media. Yet she stated she'd see me again, but how? This thought hurt me no more, as I dream of us having a romantic moment. We shared an old tale of love in a boat. Along the shore stood musicians playing songs we both craved. It was hard dreaming up a girl with a music taste like mine when I only experienced an instant with her. A brief moment that seemed to last forever. A moment I'll never get back, a moment ill never see again, but as you know, the brain is our biggest enemy.