Heading West

I thought I knew pain. I thought having my heart broken by a guy was pain or getting scraped and burned from reckless activities were pain, hell, I thought cramps were pain but they were nothing compared to this. All I see is darkness and there wasn’t a light to be found. To me, the darkness became a metaphor for the pain that surrounded me without an escape. I awoke to this darkness and broken glass on what seemed to be a concrete floor and with the slightest movement sent shockwaves throughout my entire body. Although having no sight seemed like a curse, it was a blessing for me so I couldn’t see the mangled, bloody corpse my body has become. Lord only knows what happened to my best friend, I pray to Him that her death was quick and painless, would say the same about mine but I felt that my killer was testing my strength and will. As the glass digs deeper into my skin, possibly beginning to puncturing an organ, thoughts begin to flood my mind. What if we didn’t have a flat tire, what if our cell phones didn’t die, what if we portrayed better judgment?
My soul burned knowing that due to lack of judgment resulted in this. My best friend and I were planning an amazing spring break weekend in West Palm Beach after travelling from the University of Sarasota to relax with our boyfriends. But we never thought that a joyride heading west could result in so much. The glass is now tearing my chest apart, if I try I swear that I could feel the anatomy of my actual heart. The sudden sound of footsteps makes my heart drop, I know he’s back. The breath from my shallow chest became shallower, more quiet, more faded as his footsteps grew closer, I knew I was next and he was done with me being his toy. The sharp blades tearing into my thighs, trailing a pool down my legs which made me realize that I’m now naked, felt so much better as opposed to what he had in store. Once the door opened, I saw a ray of light, I try to cling on to a possible ray of hope of survival but once the door closed I knew the end was near, only I could muster to mutter was the Lord’s prayer as well as a prayer to Him that my family will carry on and be safe. “I could hear your breathing, your pain, your fear, your prayer. Sorry to say like your friend, even the Lord can’t save you.” Can’t believe my last breaths, sights and sounds are with the company of this man who tears my body apart; and the most painful part of this is I thought he was here to protect and serve.

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