Thyself Unknown

People say all you remember from life is the good things, but, what if good never existed? What if you slip out of the world's grasp and exist merely as a shell of what you used to be? I sit in the gutter on the side of a road, it's raining heavily, but not yet a storm. The leaves that have fallen in the wind float down the concrete gutter, alongside the garbage that has accumulated over the course of the day. My shirt was soaked a long time ago and my trousers, once new, are now sitting on my legs torn and ruined. The brown raincoat I had on is now draped over me, in an attempt to aid in protecting what is left of me. As cars pass and water from the road floods my jeans and burns my entire body in a stabbing ache, which sears through me as a constant reminder I am still here, broken and lost. The old raincoat I wear is torn and as the rain gets harder it runs in streams down my coat, like the positive emotion still left deep within me, under my sorrows. It's a Thursday but no one's at school now, it's the holidays, yet, I feel solace within next to the roots of my strength. I long for someone to take me away from these emotions and bring me back from this glazed shadow. I wish I could die and end the pain, end the emptiness, end the loneliness, and pacify my emotions. Yet, as much as I wish for this I long for much more value, I long for someone to take me away, wrap me in their arms a let me cry, let me feel safe and protected, stop me from overthrowing myself, keep me from myself ad the bottles that lie beside me once full, but now empty.

The rain turns to storm, and as people run in an attempt to keep themselves dry. Not once do they notice me. As they shuffle past down the sidewalk, I decide to move out of the rain, or attempt to minimise the rain falling on me to lessen the burning sensation. I try moving my limp self, but, I can't. I fall flat against the cold, hard pavement and I cry out in pain, but, my pain is not just a physical pain, it is an entirety, it is I. I lie on the side walk numb, cold and empty, contemplating my death and resurrection. If I died here would I be forgotten, would anyone remember me, who would I be remembered as? I feel my body shaking uncontrollably as the last people walking the streets disperse into buildings. I lie there on the street, listening to the rain fall and the rustle of leaves as blow all over the street, but, then I hear a sound inconsistent with the rain and leaves. I hear footsteps, except they are not like the others that pass, hurriedly rushing by, these stop, they stop somewhere close to me and I don't know what to do. I would have though it was a gangster, set on mugging me and bringing me to my death but, they are leather soled shoes, like boots, not heavy, rubber soled boots. My stomach gets caught in my throat and I hold my breath waiting for it to all end, but the end never comes. I roll over and through my sad, empty eyes and my muddy, tear-stained face, I look up at a woman crouched over me, she's looking at my drunken form, with a look I can't interpret. It's warm and kind, willing and…concern? But, there is an emotion that I cannot by define; it is all of these emotions mixed together, strong and powerful. But, my thoughts are interrupted by a voice gentle and soothing, I realise she's talking to me "are u ok?" I look up at the woman, I shake my head and then fall limp back onto the sidewalk. I feel someone caring me somewhere, as I start shaking uncontrollably, up stairs maybe, but that is the end, as I fall into a deep exhausted sleep.