Paranoia took hold of my mind. It was consistent; an undying fear that denied me my right out of this madness; this psychotic state that enslaved me from within as I tried to break free. I shuddered. The walls seemed to close in as I meagerly sat in a corner that seemed vaguely familiar. The presence was out there. It disturbed me as I registered its existence. It had begun a game of hide and seek now. It would disappear as I would try reaching out, to express my disbelief in accepting the existence of this paranormal entity that would stalk my every move, and then it would return soundlessly as if it had never left. I had initially disregarded it all, but this continual buildup of preliminary obsession made me realize the anomalous nature of this situation, the abstract segregation that it injected into my life.
I looked around in this half empty room that I had banished myself to and dreariness closed in on me. Everything around had begun to demoralize me – I was alone, alone in this world, & the heavens that it lay under. It was a vacant feeling, that annihilated any shard of happiness that. on its own accord, had managed to give me reason to think of the days to come. But as the moments died out, so did the hope that someone, anyone would think of me. It hit me then, how much I had begun to rely on this entity that stalked me, the idea that I mattered enough to be looked at from afar. It gave me a chilling feeling, like remembering things of the past, those that had become forever a stranger to me.
‘Come back’, I whispered. I desperately needed companionship. But I heard nothing except distant sirens. I felt abandoned, so completely isolated from the world. My eyes searched for the presence that had started these inhumane thoughts, the entity that was to blame. But tonight, I found nothing; the shadows that had long haunted my paths had forsaken me too, as if all of a sudden they had become apathetic to my existence, abandoning me with contempt that I could feel as apprehension filled me. My life was purposeless, and now I was terrified to realize that the flaws that had now become part of me were visible for everyone to see. I had failed myself.
Time passed slowly, the infinite darkness kept going on and on falling deeper into a never-ending oblivion, or perhaps that is how I began to perceive it. I no longer considered the individuality of ‘time’ – I had, to the best of my knowledge, dropped out completely of the universe where I once subsisted.
I ruminated long and wistfully, musing quietly over the meaningless presence of the entity. I planned to wait for it, to call a truce, a friendly invite to just sit and talk. I wanted nothing more than to be heard, to be told that I did matter, that my opinions were not barren of logic, of thought. I wanted to be reassured that I did exist.
I waited and waited, yet I felt nothing lingering over me, there wasn’t that familiar feeling of being watched that I had essentially hated at first. I wanted to be judged, to be analyzed by anyone who thought I’d be worth it. I was exhausted, drained of life. The only thought that I could hear within the confines of my mind were that of this stranger during the times I would come back to consciousness. I had become obsessed, undauntingly allowing this madness to prevail just to keep myself alive.
The more I obsessed, the more I realized the true nature of the masked entity. It was undoubtfully alive, breathing along with me. It was there with me all along; it was the manifestation of my loneliness that had begun to haunt me. It was not imaginary; it was nothing but the emptiness within me that had at last taken hold of me. It had shown me its existence, an existence that only lived as long as I breathed. It lived and died with me, never abandoning me – it was merely transposition of identity, I had lost myself and my life had yet gained something that could take my place instead as I was forgotten slowly, in transition. My life would go on, it would breathe, live, but now without my essence.
I sighed. I had accepted myself. I could close my eyes now and rest. I didn’t have to breathe – I was ready to fade away.
I passed on, with one final thought in my head;
No one would have anything of me, but a space where I would be.
**So I wrote this story in about 3 hours, again, not my best work but I figured I’d rather write out the story in my head than forget about it all together. Hope it doesn’t suck too much. xD
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You’re currently reading “Raison d’être.,” an entry on Epitomal Fragments of a Teenage Mind.
- May 26, 2011 / 4:50 am
- Short Story.