never forever. | By: Bailey C | | Category: Short Story - Despair Bookmark and Share

never forever.



NEVER FOREVER.


Itís a funny thing really...

As Blake eyed the empty "Family Sized" bottle of Tylenol, and remaining sip of vodka in his glass, he pondered the last time he had actually lived.

In the technical sense, he had been alive. He had been a living, breathing creature. His 26 years of life were still being added to, replenished everyday. He had hope, promise... success.
But his heart turned to stone when Elisabeth left. After that, everything else slipped away. His job, his mother, his life...

Now, he knew that roughly 15 or so minutes had passed since he set a fate he could not escape, the empty white medication bottle playing homage to this fact. His last minutes were quickly approaching.


In Blake's vision, he was already dead.
He had allowed, no... welcomed the sweet numbness that has seeped into him only 3 months before, like poison. He had become a slave to addiction. His lifestyle became ignorant of the world around him. He rarely strayed from his apartment.
His body now pumped black blood. His mind now longed for a bullet. His veins wished for a Knife.


He planned on greeting death with open arms.


Everyone had always called him "Spineless" and "Dependant". His last act on earth would only prove their point.

"What will they say at your funeral?" his mind taunted him. "Poor, lovesick Blake. Never has a chance on his own... his destiny was to die alone."


It would all be over soon...
just be patient.


He planned on greeting death with open arms.


Humming a light tune to himself, he sunk into his favorite suede chair. It chorused a muffled whine as he planted himself. The vertigo was making it difficult to stand.

He sat back, and lit a cigarette. This was the beginning of the end. The Final act.

Soon...

"You are so gullible... you believed her. She is not to blame for this. You are, you coward. Remember her? Her smile, her eyes, her precious mind...
Elizabeth..."
As his mind mentioned her name, the four syllables cut at his emotion, like a blade on flesh.

He wished for the thoughts to stop. At every pump of his still-beating heart, he cried for her.

"You believed her when she told you. What was the word she used? Forever i think it was. ďIíll love you foreverĒ. We both knew she was too good for you."

"Shut up" he spoke aloud. His words slurred now. Pain washed over his body like a warm bath.

"You drove her away, you know. How could anyone want you? Coward."

"Shut up!" his voice now growing in volume.

The other voices continued to talk over his own shaky mummers.

"And you know what? She hates you. Everyone does. You're Useless. Worthless. Look at yourself. Withering on a sofa after a cocktail of pills and vodka. Your last moments. Youíre alone.
I mean, youíre talking to yourself for god's sake."

His thoughts were like fire in his mind. He was burning alive on the inside.

A long drag of his cigarette silenced the voices for a moment.

He wanted to hurry this up.

He planned on greeting death with open arms.

Soon... soon.
Be patient.


His breathing was quick and labored. Sweat was dripping off of his brow. His legs twitched.

He reached for the radio that sat on the coffee table next to him.

At that moment... a strange thing happened.
The phone rang.

At first, it startled him. He never got phone calls anymore. Any friends had found it too painful to peruse a friendship with Blake now. He had heard their worried voices, and hushed whispers as their eyes danced. Taking in the unshaven face. The sullen eyes. The pink lines that floated on his arms and wrists.

Soon...
Open arms...

But the phone rang now.
He didnít want to answer it... he probably wouldnít be able to muster the energy to walk the harrowing steps to reach it anyways. The answering machine kicked in.

"Blake?" a unsure, feminine voice crept into the room.

He couldnít believe that Elizabeth would call now... at his last moments.
Butterflies filled his stomach,
Tears welled into his eyes.

He missed her voice....
The sound of her filled the empty void in his heart.

"Blake, I'm sure you're home. You're just avoiding me. I know it's been... 3 months since we talked. But... i miss you. I think I was wrong when i said those things.... I shouldn't have left so quickly... look. I'm coming over to your apartment right now. I still have that key. I'll be over in two minutes"
she paused.
"I... I love you, Blake."

Silence.

Not even his mind could come up with a comment right away.

Complete Silence.

Finally, thoughts processed the information, and computed an answer.
"Get to the phone and call 911."

Blake tried to stand. His knees failed him, and he collapsed onto the floor like a ragdoll. His face hit the tile, and he tasted blood. He was panting like a dog in august. Sweat clung to his frame. The walls seemed to spin faster and faster with each bump of his pulse. He was so tired... so goddamn tired. He wanted to sleep...
He crawled on the floor reaching for the phone. his twitching hands tried to grasp the receiver, but he missed.

"You don't HAVE two minutes" His mind spoke, "Call 911!"

He tried to grab the receiver once more. His hand jerked, and the phone hit the floor, the plastic shattering, the hardware separating. Broken beyond repair.

"Just like you.
You're done now."

He flipped onto his stomach, watching the ceiling fan as is span. Nothing felt real.
This Had To Be A Dream.

He could faintly hear keys scrape at the lock. A scream escaped her. She took in the scene... pills strewn around the room. Empty bottles. His near lifeless body, shaking like a leaf in the wind. He was as pale as ice. Almost transparent.

Elizabeth kneeled down beside him, and proceeded to franticly dial 911.

He put his arm up, and put her phone down.

"Itís too late now..."

Blake studied the face that he loved so. Her softly pointed nose. Her gray blue eyes. Her honey colored hair. Her pink lips. She was his heroine.

He drew his last breath, and chuckled aloud. The pain... he just wanted to sleep...

"Forever..." he whispered.




And death welcomed him with open arms.

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