Poem -

My Death

My Death

Everyone reacts to things differently, most feel I overreact, but how can I overact in such a serious situation. In reality I feel as though what I went through is the scariest moment of anybody's life, if it were to happen to them. Especially a parent that would be leaving a child behind. Its hard to explain without giving you a looking glass to peer inside my head to see the graphic details of what my mind saw and felt. The graphic details of my twisted thoughts. To be able to explain exactly what was going through my mind while it happened. The way he looked as he ran up to my window. The way the color of the night wrapped around his body. The draw strings that were neatly tied around his beard and the face he made as he pressed the gun against the window. As if he didn’t have a soul, eyes as black as night, lips firmly pressed together. The way the street light reflected off the gleaming barrel of the gun. The sound of the shots being so loud, but how it seemed muffled hitting my ear drums. The way the seat felt as I slid across it to the other side fumbling for the door handle,and the confusion as to how I held onto my phone the entire time. How the glass felt when it shattered and hit my body. The burning from the metal that's now lodged in my fragile tissues and flesh. How scared I was sliding out of the car thinking he was running to come around and finish it. The fear that set in when I realized no one was around wondering if my mother could hear me from the house. My screams felt so loud, yet sounded so faint and soft. The salt from the tears that I quickly wiped so my mother wouldn't see me cry when she ran to my side to help me, and how everyone saw me as calm but on the inside I was completely breaking down. How the warm blood felt as it continuously poured out of my now weak body. How everyone around me got a lil dimmer and blurry but all the lights got brighter. The faces faded as the minutes passed by. The screams and cries from my mother and the tears that ran down her face. How I wanted so badly to wipe them but couldn’t reach up to do so. The way she held me and rubbed my face to pacify me. The love and fear I could feel pouring from her as she talked to me. The bothersome reality of wanting to see my father but knowing he was no where around and how scared I was knowing that he wasn’t gonna make it back in time, or how Jeremiah my sweet little boy was watching me, how scared he must have been how alone he must have felt, how traumatizing it must have been for him. Just wanting to leap up and run to him but knowing I couldn’t. Knowing that there were people over top of me but I was to weak to even recognize anyone's face. Wondering where my sisters and brother were, just wanting to see their faces one last time. Wishing my best friends were by my side but knowing they weren’t around and probably didn’t even know what happened. Needing Adam so bad but he didn’t answer the phone. How painful it felt saying goodbye to my mother not knowing if I’ll ever see her red hair or hazel eyes again, and the face she made when I said it. That image will forever be stained in my memory. How it felt when the EMT softly brushed my hair with her hands to calm me because it got closer and closer to me not makin it home to see my son again, how soft her hands were against my cheek, and the crack in the other EMTS voice as her eyes filled with tears. The sweat pouring off me but feeling so cold. The panic that set in when they didn't send a helicopter and the hard sharp pain I felt in my chest the longer it took to get to the there . then the sudden bliss I felt the closer we got to pulling in like god had taken all the pain out of my body and replaced it worry free happiness, the lights got dimmer and my body got warm, no more pain, no more aching. Until they ripped me out of the ambulance and I could feel all the pain at once, every little ache and pain, every throbbing wound. I remember the lights flashing by as they ran me to the operating table and, I remember how cold the room was. How the metal table felt against my back and how the drs. Rushed around me smelling like sterilization and saline. The surgeons voice being stern and loud asking question after question. The way the room slowly closed in black around me and the voices faded until I was no longer awake. Pitch black a room of silence.

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Dmitri Rudder

Sometimes though, death is the greatest freedom, even if we don't see it.

I stood on a rooftop once, looking down at the ground below, wondering and wondering if I would survive the fall, my mind distuned to the people around me. Not wondering how they would react if I suddenly leapt, how they were too drunk to even call for help. I didn't drink, I let them do that, so that I could have that chance, to escape the black pit that came with losing your soulmate, your one and only. Watching her life degenerate one second at a time as her parents, her family, beat and abused her, made her fear love, until I was all she had left. I watched her wither away under them, I saw the bruises, and I knew there were more I couldn't see. I wanted them to die, but I would have to do, to see her again and tell her I wasn't lying to her, that they hadn't told her the truth, that I went to her. But, instead that night, I saw only her swinging body on the rope. I had to see her again. I tried that day. I tried to jump, but she held me back. Even to this day... I wish I had...