The Fear of Dying Alone

“One day, I am gonna grow wings.”

Those words accompanied me from the very first time I heard the song where they came from. I believed in them; they struck a chord in me. They were a symbol of hope. Quite ironic when they come from a depressing song, don’t you think so? But since I lost all grip on my life, on my environment, I was falling endlessly, trying to catch any branch, any hand that might have been held out to me – without any success. The fall hit me harder and harder, the sharp wind scarring my back, my naked body giving up.

But one day, I am gonna grow wings. That’s what I thought. There was my hope. If I had to suffer, at least it would last only until my wings grew. After that, I would be able to fly away, stop the fall, get out of my hole. I would be able to be… free. I could finally live.

I put the words into my mouth, spat them out again and again. Thanks to them, everyday life felt a bit lighter than usual. How was I supposed to bear any longer all the pain those murderers took pleasure in inflicting on me? Repeating. Hoping. I thought many of my feelings had disappeared, but… a song made them reappear. It was a miracle.

The pain, the sorrow – their sharp claws pierced my stomach at any given time, damaging its contents. Everyone savored the taste of my tears, tinged with the bitterness of my blood. It’s a figurative image, but the feeling stays the same. Depression, you might think? No. Deeper and harder than that. It hurts more than depression. It hurts more than any pain a human being should witness and endure. I often wonder how I can still keep walking straight. I wonder how. I wonder why.

I’ve waited long enough, and as I wished and prayed for it to happen… they grew. The wings of freedom tore out of my back, made me bleed, but it was nothing compared to all I had been through. Another pain – the last one before freedom – that wouldn’t kill me. Not this time. I wouldn’t have to try and fail anymore.

I crashed. I tried again. I failed – until I got the hang of it. I could fly. I didn’t care anymore.

I could go to school. I could spend a day without worrying about anything. Their words, their gazes, their thoughts – they didn’t reach me. A heavy weight had been lifted off my chest. My discomfort disappeared, as fresh rain would pause and step aside to let in a majestic rainbow. I was on a little cloud.

But as everything is, nothing lasts forever.

Those wings didn’t stay. Long has it been since they were torn off my back. I already lost all hope. It lasted far too short a time before reality caught up with me. What's the point of flying away if the only way for man to live is to remain rooted to the ground? You return to dust in the end, so stay where you are. Your wings will take you nowhere.

Their smiles, their thoughts, theirs words, their blows, their artificial pity, their malevolent hunger for the taste of my blood – nothing had changed. On the contrary, they all came back harder.

My thoughts were once again all messed up. I have no one – no hand, no branch, nothing to hold onto, nothing to stand on. I am sentenced to beg on my knees for the rest of my life until death comes for me. Oh, sweet death, won’t you save me from this terrible fate that has trapped me since my birth? My fate is yours. My life is yours. I have nothing to do here. See… they all made me understand that my place isn’t there, that I’m not one of them. Could you please take me with you into your realm, or are you seeking my pain?

My body strives to find an escape… No, that’s not true. I don’t hope for something as trivial. I just wait – continuing day after day, repeating the cycle. Waiting. Day after, hour after hour, minute after minute. The end should be close. My eyes have already lost their light; soon my soul will too.

But...

Oh please… I’m scared. I don’t want to die. I can’t withstand this any longer. My brain is too damaged, it can’t be repaired. My heart? Already shattered to nothing. I don’t feel anymore – or that’s what it’s supposed to be. But I feel the void. I feel the pain. I feel reality striking my frail body. Why do I feel it? Why…? I don’t want it… take it back. Do not give it to me… let me be free! I… There isn’t anyone out there waiting for me or wanting to see me return. I… I’m an egoist, a beast chained to hope, a hamster scared to death, stress and anxiety crawling under my skin to make me die. I…

I don’t want to die alone.

But do I have the choice?

I want to sleep. I’m tired. In this bed that has witnessed everything, I want to combust my last thoughts. I want to shatter the last glimmer of light that remains within me.

My thoughts drift away. My eyes close. The scars stop burning. The throbbing pain remains. It stains the deepest part of my soul, bringing my darkest nightmares to life, making them all the more real to punish me for ever having hoped.

I’m sorry for being such a nuisance. I’m sorry, everyone. I’m sorry… pardon me.

I want to sleep forever – a peaceful sleep for once. A sleep with no thoughts, with no destination, only the immeasurable pleasure of the serene and vast field of freedom stretching out before me. I would be lost in this place forever, and that would be enough.

Offer me peace. Offer me joy. Offer me what I would never have been able to imagine before.

Ah… but this is a dream, isn’t it?

Would I really want to wake from it? I’m scared to know the answer. I’m scared to take the situation fully into my heart.

I always dream of you, taking me far away from here. I give up, once again – but for the last time.

And in your arms, I surrender. I’ll die in my waking hour.