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The Edge

written by: Camille

@gowerrichelle75



I lie in the half light, shadow of dusk approaching.

Beside me lie the empty boxes of every prescribed drug I could find.

Confetti of blister packs surrounds me.

Too late now.. It's done!

The telephone lies within my drowsy reach.

Three little numbers.... I picture them in my head... Those three 9's that could still change the outcome.....

My index finger twitches briefly.. I see it.. Then it returns to stillness.

I feel a little sedated now....ever so slightly detached and I think to myself that's a good thing..

To drift away on a sea of peace and tranquility,

I hear the most haunting melody.. Real or imagined I can't tell......then I smile to myself.

As if my exit from this world would be accompanied by beautiful music!

Alas I shall slip from this world unnoticed.. Without so much as birdsong.

I shall leave behind so little to aid remembrance..: no real evidence that I was ever here,

A tinge of sadness in my drug soaked mind....

Not completely anaesthetised yet..still pain there in my heart.

I turn my head.. The telephone eyeballs me...

My finger twitches a second time.

I feel strange now.. Floaty and ethereal,

The pain has nearly gone away.

I roll clumsily towards the telephone,

It seems to be moving away from me.. The bed is enormous,

I know there's not much time...

I stare stupidly at the receiver.

Three little numbers....then nothing.

Nothing for quite a long while,

Then the smell of hospitals assuages my nostrils,

Wearing a crisp white sheet.. Not a shroud..

I muse if my failure to die was a weakness or a strength?

To leave or face a nothingness world...

Perhaps there is no glory in either choice,

Each path as empty and desolate as the other....