If I Hadn't Been Saved, Short #2
Bitter cold seeped through my thin jacket as water slips through the cracks of an old wooden house. My footsteps caked the snow that was continuous falling in the woodland. My breath formed perfect clouds as my panting slowed, the ground finally leveling off.
Whenever I felt upset, I would run up the hill by my house and, 30 minutes away, I’d find this cabin. It was only a small cabin, probably 7 feet tall and about the size of a work shed. It had a stone fire pit in the center and a stick leaning in the doorway. As far as I knew, no one had inhabited this place for years. So it became my spot.
The sound of silence was blissful to me, and much welcome. It calmed my racing heart and the thoughts that forever haunted me. I constantly worried about how others saw me, and I became even more paranoid when I began hitting myself and giving myself bruises. Not long after that started, I took an old shaving razor and removed the blades. One time I remember it becoming so bad, I was able to slice so deep the think blade stayed there, just wedged into my leg. I had never seen such a heavy blood flow. While it’s never gotten like that again, I still wonder if it might in the future.
My stark brown hair was down today. Now, cutting was like a lottery. Every day I would leave my hair down, because I was most comfortable like that. Some days, I would forget, and put it up. On those days, I felt horrible. I always caved. I made it out in my head that I was ugly and pathetic. I felt so exposed. So when I cut, I would cover up more and confine myself within this empty place where emotions did not exist. Today, I was fine. I was alone, content and in a place where I could just be myself.
I rounded the cabin to the take in the sight of the lake. It was frozen at this time of year. The slight breeze blew frozen leaves across the barren surface. The beauty of it all in the fading light drew me to the rocky shoreline, and I felt my boots crunch the ice beneath me.
Before I knew it, I was standing out in the center of the lake. And before I could come to my senses, I heard it crack. But, as messed up as I was, I didn’t move. I closed my eyes and waited for it.
I still remember the feel of the frozen ice ripping through my cheek and catching on my sleeves. I don’t know how long I was in the water, but I recall the hands yanking my arms back onto the lake and being dragged to the shore. I still haven’t been able to thank my savior, who I assumed had been hiking nearby at the time. Even till this day, I don’t know if I regret not running back to safety. I wouldn’t purposely kill myself, but I wouldn’t stop it if it happened, just like I didn’t stop it back then.