Misscarried Away
I laid in bed, with my eyes closed while my head was pounding from the disorienting moulds of colours around me. I ran my sore fingers down between the mattress and bed frame until I felt something sharp press against them. My mind smiled as I pulled the object out. I had not bothered trying to walk for a few days now. I had found out about my miscarriage just a few days ago and knowing this, my love for everything else shattered. My unborn child, my unwritten book, my creation, taken away and gone forever. I had been inseminated four months ago because I knew I was not going to find a partner in life. I just wanted to be home alone in my room and disappear without the world knowing. Each step I took felt like I was plunging into a never ending darkness until my feet would clumsily make contact with the ground again.I could not see clearly as my head was filled with the most detrimental of thoughts. But I wanted all of that to end today. I just wanted to be with my baby even if it meant dying.
I could feel the knife blade breaking the skin on my already scarred palm, I didn’t flinch but instead I wrapped my fingers around the object tighter. I can’t remember if I was smiling or not but I know everything was so meaningless and stupid at the time. I used my free hand to run up and down my right arm tracing the bumpy strips of pain that I imagined to be deep red and purple. Or white. I took my knife and pressed down harder than ever before onto my left wrist and hoped it was a good efficient spot. I could tell I cut deep this time. I remember the first time I had done this to myself, It hurt but I got used to it as now all I feel is relief. I then closed my eyes letting my useless life drain from this hopeless body as all the detrimental thoughts of finding out that a life inside me died came back once again as a photo album in my head.
When I opened my eyes, I felt warm and happy as well as the strangest sense of comfort. I looked around and the first thing I
I could feel the knife blade breaking the skin on my already scarred palm, I didn’t flinch but instead I wrapped my fingers around the object tighter. I can’t remember if I was smiling or not but I know everything was so meaningless and stupid at the time. I used my free hand to run up and down my right arm tracing the bumpy strips of pain that I imagined to be deep red and purple. Or white. I took my knife and pressed down harder than ever before onto my left wrist and hoped it was a good efficient spot. I could tell I cut deep this time. I remember the first time I had done this to myself, It hurt but I got used to it as now all I feel is relief. I then closed my eyes letting my useless life drain from this hopeless body as all the detrimental thoughts of finding out that a life inside me died came back once again as a photo album in my head.
When I opened my eyes, I felt warm and happy as well as the strangest sense of comfort. I looked around and the first thing I