Chapter Seventeen: Jason Graz
Reverend, reverend, is this a conspiracy? Crucified for no sins, no revenge beneath me. Lost within my plans for life, it all seems so unreal. I’m a man cut in half in this world, left in my misery.
Blackness. Nothing but the darkest, dense, sinful black. Blacker than Lucifer’s heart if it existed. All my senses are dead. No smell can penetrate my nose. No colour can grace my eyes. No sweet sound can pass my ears. No object can cut through my numb, tingling, dead skin to graze my touch. No soft wind can stoke the taste buds in my mouth, passing me information by stroking my cheek, instead scraping a cruel, cold, hard fingernail of pain across my flesh. At least, I think it is flesh. No bittersweet moment can lull me from the depths of despair I’ve fallen into, that I’m falling into and that I’ve always been falling in.
The reverend, he turned to me, without a tear in his eyes. It isn’t anything new for him to see, I didn't ask him why. I’ll remember, the love our souls had sworn to make. Now I watch the falling rain all my mind can see now is you.
It begins to dawn on my mind what has happened, what is happening. Now I feel something in my numb state. A fire lights up inside me, a horrid, twisted pain in my soul. It is wreaking havoc, causing turmoil in my mind. Pain is all I can think of. This can’t be happening. It isn’t possible. Not to me. Not so young. I was destined for more than this. This is just a dream. Not reality. Some sort of practical joke my mind was playing with my body. My subconscious mind against my conscious mind. Two sides raging war, both of them lying. This couldn’t be happening. Not to me of all people. It wasn’t true. All fake. A mirage. An illusion. A badly fashioned nightmare. A tasteless joke. It wasn’t real. I wouldn't accept that. This would not happen to me in reality for years, nothing I could say to myself could make me think that this is anything other than some practical joke. I mean really?
Well I guess you took my youth and gave it all away. Like the birth of a newfound joy, this love would end in rage. And when she died I couldn’t cry, the pride within my soul. You left me incomplete. All alone as the memories now unfold.
Something new washes over me. Something different. I don’t like it. It is different, strange. Cold, hard, unfeeling almost. Whatever it is, it courses through my body, speeding through my veins, boiling my blood. If I could cry, I think I would. My life was useless. I never did anything to help people. I never did anything worth living for. Everything I’ve ever done has been driven by my own, selfish reasons. I wish I hadn’t lived my life like this. Guilt tears like a hurricane through my mind, picking up anything, any scrap of memory, any emotion flying, splintering them. Rendering them a hopeless cause. Rendering them useless. Just like me. Just like I spent my entire life. Worthless. Useless. Nothing important. Nothing worthwhile. Everything I’ve ever done for myself, I want to take back. I want to live my life again. I want to live it again this time, with the knowledge and understanding that I should do something other than for myself. Make an impression. Not wallow in my own pit of stupidity like I did. It pains me to think about my life, but I continue to anyway. Pain and guilt are all I feel. At least I feel.
Believe the word. I’ll unlock my door and pass the cemetery gates.
This is unbelievable! Metallic, blood red flashes across my vision, replacing the black that filled it moments before. It could be moments, minutes, days, weeks, months, years, decades, centuries. I’ve no way of knowing. Anger rips through my head. Memories that had been shredded are now splintered, lying in the dust of the unknown of my mind. My mind is having a war with my body. My mind wants to move. My mind wants me to open my eyes. My mind wants me to see. My mind needs to know. My body doesn’t want to know. My body doesn’t care. My body won’t respond. My body isn’t interested. Searing anger makes fireworks explode behind my eyes in the blackness. The fireworks light up the blackness, but only more blackness is there to be seen. I’ll trade this blackness for a new life. I’ll go on a mad quest to get my life back. I’ll do anything just to get a new life.
Sometimes when I’m alone, I wonder aloud, if you're watching over me some place far abound. I must reverse my life; I can't live in the past. Then set my soul free, belong to me at last.
Any anger I had subsides. It merely fades, leaving only depression. A veil is put around me. I’m in a cage. A cage of my own creation. It is my fault. All of it. I’m alone in whatever I do now because I was a bad person. I didn’t really ever try to be me. I tried to fit in. I tried to be cool. My life was wasted because I didn’t do anything worthwhile. If only I could go back. If only I could go back and repent. If only I could go back and make up for all my mistakes. Maybe I could make myself a better person. In my heart I know I couldn’t. I’m a horrible person. It is as plain as black and white. There isn’thing more to say. There isn’t anything more I can do. Life was a mistake. Life was wasted on me. What have I ever done to deserve to live? I’m not worthy of life. My life shouldn’t have existed. If I wasn’t here, people wouldn't be unhappy. If I wasn’t here, more would be done to help others. If only I could pull myself from this pit I was wallowing in. This pit of despair. What I’d not give to be a good person. To be loved and to be nice.
Through all those complex years I thought I was alone. I didn't care to look around and make this world my own. And when she died I should’ve cried and spared myself some pain. You left me incomplete. All alone as the memories still remain.
I realize that I can’t go back. What is done is done. Live and let live. Whatever has happened, be it good or bad, has happened. I can’t go back and rewrite history. What has happened, what did happen was meant to happen. It was fate. It was destiny. It was meant to be. The bad emotions no longer override my senses. I calm. As I calm, the blackness is lifted slightly. The blackness is replaced by a dark blue. It is calming. It is cooling. After the rage I flew into before, I need something cooling. So, everything I’ve done is in the past. I have to look up. Climb out of this pit. Climb out of the hole I dug myself into. Why should I spend the rest of eternity like this? Despairing? Willing to bargain my life for another? Feeling pain for actions out of my control? Shock overriding everything I know? Denial ruling whatever is left of my poor, shredded life. What can I do? I can’t change anything I’ve done. I know that. I must forget. I must learn. I mustn’t do wrong again. Things are looking up now.
The way we were. The chance to save my soul and my concern is now in vain. Believe the word, I’ll unlock my door and pass the cemetery gates.
What do I have left now? What can I make from what I have? What could I have made with what I had? What can I learn about this time around that I didn’t do last time? What is there that I can improve upon? All these questions and more float freely around my mind. My mind is no longer the site of a hurricane disaster, merely a building site. I must build on what I have. Learn from the past. Learn from mistakes. Do right for every time I’ve done wrong. Do right until I can no longer do anything anymore. There isn’thing else that I can say really. I must reconstruct what I had. Without having what I had when I started, I’ve barely anything. I had a future. I had will power. I had forces driving me on. I had support. I had hope. Now where do I stand? In the tatters of what used to be. Now I must grow. I must learn how to cope. I must change. It is important that everything I ever do is accounted for. I must be better. I can’t afford to fail. I can’t afford to lose everything again. I want to do better. I want to be a nicer, better, free minded person. I want to do right.
The way we were. The chance to save my soul and my concern is now in vain. Believe the word, I’ll unlock my door and pass the cemetery gates. Gates. Gates.
What I have is what I have. I can accept that now. There isn’t anything that can be done any more. Everything I can do, I will. I’ve accepted my fate. I’ve accepted my destiny. No matter how bad the cards that life deals me, I’ll play them. Failure is no longer an option. I’ll face problems by being calm. I shall feel everything personally. I shall no longer feel negative. I shall no longer be negative. Any emotion that isn’t positive isn’t what I want in my new, rebuilt world. Shock isn’t welcome. Denial will be set straight. Pain shall be fixed. Guilt shall be redeemed. Anger shall be tamed. Bargaining shall be banned. Depression will be lifted. Reflection shall only be dwelt upon so that I can be more positive. Loneliness shall be united. Reconstruction shall be welcome. Redemption shall not be necessary once everything is done. Working through will be encouraged. Life shall be accepted for what it is, dealt with truly. Hope shall always be there. I have hope.