As I sit here reminiscing about my life, Knife in hand, I just ask myself as to how I’ve gotten as far as I have. Twenty years old and so absent of life. I have never had a partner nor friends, or any kind of near and dear human interaction for that matter.
I was raised in foster care from the age of nine.
When I was seven, my mother was tethered to a life support machine.
At the age of nine, my father, fragile and weak committed suicide.
The note went something like this:
“I know you may never understand and I’m not sorry, but you may thank me some day…”
I never understood the message until now, sitting here, slicing into the tender skin within the confines of my hand looking over the horizon.
A gentle drip follows…
I’m glad my father did what he did…
I’ve been taught and invaluable lesson…
That the human soul, albeit intangible, is not infallible.
The same holds true for the will.
Both have yet to be seen much less heard, by a being that breathes the same air as you and I, foolishly we continue to live our lives and ignore these facts so we may keep faith that they exist.
A cool sensation begins to overwhelm me...
Perhaps their intangibility is what has kept them pure and free of human kinds’ seemingly instinctual want to poke, ****, and risk possibly destroying something they do not understand until it is understood…
I mean let’s take a look at love.
Love, likewise to the will and the soul is also intangible.
What would love be if you can do what I have done to this very moment and take a sharpened steel blade and tear beneath the skin to understand what truly lies below it surface.
Short story