AJ - Izzy

Canada

How to write all of me in less than 10 seconds?

Hmm, let me think... how about DREAMER?

Yup. That works.

Message to Readers

TW: This is 100% fiction. This is a reflection of mine, though very much less of an experience and more of a prediction; even less of a prediction, and more of an undeveloped thought. I am speaking as though it is all inside of me, not an action. More of an unleashed trail of bread crumbs. Anyway, it is pretty intense, so proceed with caution.

Still, Trembling, Gone

October 7, 2020

FREE WRITING

6
    In one way or another, we find ways to stimulate fear. Stress. Worry, pain, trembling breath. 
    The breath tells me; a hidden gesture, habit almost. When I am feeling high in the stress, high in the worry, high horse. 
    I hate being on the high horse.
    But it keeps me alive.

    In survival, one panics and clouds their mind, or one breaths and calms their thoughts. I am neither.
    I breath, slight shakes in the exhale and trembling hands; almost unnoticeable. Yet my mind is both clear and clouded. Clear in the thoughts of escape, clear in the thoughts of defense, of offense, of the next steps. My mind reaches the farthest points of scenarios; the breaking of windows, the swinging of weapons, the chaos and deadly stabs of the mind. 

    In the deepest depth of the mind, I see death; grave injury more so, death is more of a liability. I see a fist coming through the door window, the crash causing commotions; screams, gasps, clutching the closest. Some try to push further into the solid wall, as if they could simply become a mirage and dissolve into the safety of the soon-to-be crimson walls. Some struggle to cover their head, their faces, their hearts, protecting the organs that keep them living, breathing, fearing. And some others rest briskly on their toes, light on their feet, eyes panicked but purpose focused.
    The fist stretches its battered fingers, reaching down, grasping for the handle. The focus of the room is on themselves, unaware of how close to an open battle we are, but I have my eyes on that fist; on that turning door knob; on the creak of the door as it swings open, welcoming the terrifying lack of stability. The tension in the room rises to blazing hot levels, most barely hanging on to their sanity in the face of a dangerous man; he had lost his mind eons ago, as the bleak darkness in his pupils whispered maliciously. He crept carelessly into the room, eyeing the fear scattered all over the floor; but I could see the whites of his eyes, I could see the vision he saw, though as well the comprehension he faltered on.
    In that split-second, I realized. There was a weapon, dangling from his swinging hand, and there was a reason; while I could not interpret the true range of his lost thoughts and the anger and evil intent seen in his actions, I knew two truths: We were all in close range of his rage, and I was in lunging range of his figure. It was in that moment that it hit me; and against the blaring voice of my common sense begging me to let myself live a little longer, breathe a little longer, love a little longer; there was no way I could stop my actions.
    Among the clear motion of an arm raising, a sharp blade staring at the people at the room with an emptiness, and the expectancy of a hit, I threw myself at the figure. I slammed hard into him, driving his weapon arm up towards the ceiling, and the chaos rang out. All calm shattered, raining down on the screaming and scattering, while the voice of theirs yelling at the stupidity I had just taken part in rang inside of me. The man stumbled back, eyes wide, but he was bigger. He was stronger. He held on, straining to gain control of his weapon; the murderess gleam in his eyes became a black hole, dragging my breath into its endless torture.
    In the corner of the chaos, I see the trembling in my arms, in my legs, in my breath; the clear sign of something underneath the steady purpose. My purpose? To stop the dragging of this man's arm down, closer to the crowd of fear; to push everyone back, including the teacher, away from me and away from the danger; to live another day, though my last purpose would be a blessing at this point. I let out a painful yelp, desperately trying to hold the sharpness away from my friends. I was losing fast, losing not only my grip, but also my sanity, and the will to keep my last purpose intact. With the last of my strength, dragged my foot under him, crashing to the ground in a bloody mess. A bloody mess.
    Blood.
    My mark hit true, but at a price. The pain exploded in my gut, seeping away the few breaths I had left from the ordeal. In seconds, the dangerous man was secured, those behind clear and in control in the corner of my eye; I was not. Behind me, though I did not process it at this very moment (seeing as I was slowly bleeding to death), was horror and shock, nothing less; they were all aghast, pale, or frozen, their minds struggling to process, struggling to think, struggling to act. But I knew they would be okay.
    Me? Now that is another matter. 

    I need to stop. Stop writing. The story lives on, fear, terror, fright, pain, red on red. Red and black, dark purple, dark on darkness. On dark. 

    This day, my breath told me a tale of my fear.
    Though on the other calloused hand, there is calm. I've felt this calm before, in the inky black night of running, straining, carrying, climbing. I've felt this fear, though at a much, much smaller scale; as well I know my abilities.
    I have the ability to take control, push and pull the intellect all at once; maybe that's why I imagine I will be the first to fade away, forever. 

    Beyond this day, I'll forget. But I'll always remember; the day the tale becomes the reality, I will remember. I will say sorry to all those I didn't warn, truly, the friends I might leave, if my calm, trembling breath forces it. 
    I'm sorry I left you, and didn't say goodbye.
    I'm sorry I left without that last hug.

    Live laugh and love, will you?
    For me?

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  • October 7, 2020 - 4:26pm (Now Viewing)

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4 Comments
  • AJ - Izzy

    Thank you!! Glad I'm trying to get back in it :)


    about 2 months ago
  • Dmoral

    missed ya love! way to come back with such a great piece!!


    about 2 months ago
  • AJ - Izzy

    Thank you so much! That means a lot to me


    about 2 months ago
  • Cosmogyral

    Slightly palpable, getting some Edgar Allen Poe vibes here, it's a good piece, I'm pleasantly surprised with how well your imagination struck me. Great work.


    about 2 months ago