May 4, 2013

Till death do us part - Friday Fiction Challenge - PG-12

Here's another Friday Flash Fic.
This week is Non-Fiction and the prompt was simple: write a short essay from the starting point "Death".
Now, this thing could go anyway with me (as everything does, lol) and I've rated it PG-12 simply because it's about death and I don't think children under the age of 12 should be confronted with that just yet. I could be wrong rating it that way, if there are rules for it and I'm 'breaking' them, please let me know and I'll adjust.

Other than that ..... I won't say 'enjoy the read'.

Till death do us part.

Not only in ‘holy matrimony’, but in every life, whatever your religion, whatever your views, whatever your beliefs, we live until death do us part.
I’m not even sure where to take this, but I’m going to go with the flow, as I always do.
I could write about the – probably expected – deaths that have occurred in my life. Thankfully, there haven’t been many. My grandfather when I was 9, my grandmother when I was 13. Other than that, I’ve been marked by the deaths of pets more often than the deaths of humans. The last one a few years ago, my last dog (until I have time to take care of one again, hopefully next year). If you’re not an animal or dog lover, you may wonder how such a thing could ‘mark’ me, but if you don’t understand, I’m not going to waste my time trying to make you. You do or you don’t. It’s like common sense or an ability to give without expecting anything in return. You have it, or you don’t. It’s not something that can be taught, so I won’t try, I’m a very impatient teacher anyways, so you’re probably better off without the experience.

Do I think about death a lot?
I guess I used to, but I don’t think about it as often as I did. I’ve grown older and I’ve grown stronger. My next tattoo will read “What doesn’t kill you, only makes you stronger”. It didn’t kill me. I was thinking about death, I didn’t go as far as others have. There was always something holding me back, keeping me from taking the plunge – literally.
Not that the ‘something’ was anything really.
It was a thought.
A realization.
A reality I didn’t even want to contemplate.
It just would never happen.
For over ten years, that one thought (always the same), kept me going, struggling on, fighting for every inch of every step I wanted to take.
It didn’t kill me.
It made me stronger.
It almost did, though. Even years later, I still found myself thinking about the unthinkable. Something else kept me from doing it at that time, but I won’t go there. It’s a rocky ride I don’t want to take again. I won’t take again. It happened, it’s over, let’s let it rest.
That is one thing I can let rest.

Other things won’t be put to rest.
They just won’t be silenced, hidden, forgotten. And there is no way in hell they will ever be forgiven. Most of the time, I’ve ‘got it’ and everything is fine, but sometimes something happens and everything just takes a slide into chaos. It can’t be stopped. It’s even worse when I try to stop it. Every once in a while, I have to let it out and let it play. It doesn’t mean it controls me. It doesn’t mean it controls who I am or what I do.
I control it.
Most of the time.
Most of the time I am stronger than that.
Stronger than what was done to me.
Stronger than what was said to me.
But then, every so often, in the dead of night and in the darkness of my room, I fall apart.
Does it mean I’ll jump off a bridge or put a bullet through my brain?
No, it doesn’t.
Not anymore.
I never have.
I never will.

What doesn’t kill you, only makes you stronger.

More entries are at Now Hark This!

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