White, my mind blank, nothing filling it, no thoughts passing through, my senses numb, I didn’t feel, I didn’t think, I knew nothing.
All that was with me, was the static filling my ears, followed by murmurs of my name, through this white fog, I was nowhere.
I was alone.
The fog lifting around me, the murmurs becoming clearer.
“Tom, Tom? Stay with us buddy, we’re almost there.” An unrecognisable voice shouted, his voice dulled, sounding as if it had been slowed.
“Give him a dose of adrenaline, it’ll help stabilise him.” Another voice shouted, becoming even more clearer.
A stabbing feeling penetrated my leg, coursing up my torso and head, the adrenaline pushing itself through my veins.
I gasped, my senses returning as I regained consciousness, my eyes open to see two people standing over me, dressed in teal.
My head pounding, I attempted to look around, my neck unable to move..
“Woah now, don’t move Tom, we have you in a neck brace until we reach the hospital and check you out. You’ve been in an accident, can you hear me?” One of the men asked, his voice much softer than before.
I opened my mouth uttering a quiet, “Yes”.
It went black again.
I won’t ever forget that day, I sit here in the park opposite my street, three years later. My life has changed a lot since that accident, my mother’s death that day, still haunts me.
I watch a bird settle on a nearby branch, singing its birdsong to follow the sunrise of the early spring morning, the cool breeze wrapping itself over me, to be fought off by the goosebumps forming on my skin. The small bird now joined by what seems it’s partner, joining it in it’s hearty song. Awaking the natural neighbourhood.
It became an obsession of mine to awake before the sun, watching as nature began it’s day, not necessarily the healthiest of obsessions mind you…
To be continued.
The automatic doors opened before me, introducing me to a whitewash walled building. There was nothing appealing about this place.
The woman in front of me; most likely in her late 20’s, didn’t look up from her clipboard.
The phones constantly going off, unanswered, they are oblivious to the staff who are rushed off their feet; unable to maintain anything lower than a quick jog as they move to and fro the many rooms contained within the looming building.
I walk through, my destination known, the cold air pumped through the ventilation system causing goose bumps on my arm. I pass the rooms, monitors beeping, at differing intervals, voices over intercoms spreading information throughout the building to staff.
As I pass the open doorways my peripheral vision introduces me to its inhabitant’s lives; many of them, lifeless. Some inhabitants unable to achieve the simplest of tasks yet holding on to the life they no longer own.
This place was a pet hate of mine, even the most foulest of descriptions would not fit my hatred for this place.
We come here to be born, in hope of gaining something, a push, something that could ultimately change our lives, but for the most part. It wouldn’t find us…Instead, we come to find our death, whilst losing all our dignity, what’s left.
I turn to the doorway most familiar, only to find it empty, the bed no longer made, devoid of the flowers I had placed by the window side only yesterday. Nothing but the now packed bags of my wife; she had been struggling with cancer for three months, only having been operated on two days ago in an attempt to improve her life.
A nurse passed my room, momentarily looking up and seeing my confusion.
She came in, her pace still abrupt and rushed.
“She died in her sleep last night. I’m sorry.”
She smiled weakly in an attempt to make things lighter than they were,
and then she was gone.
Just like my wife.
Sitting on the leather bound couch, sniffing into a tissue, crying my soul out to the world, only to be heard by the man intent on monetary motivation.
And how does that make you feel? He asks bored, she’s just another cash source to him, she’s nothing to him, he doesn’t care.
I tell him my story and receive only blank stares, he’s not looking at me, he’s looking to the billboard behind him, the latest advert for the new range of lingerie released to the public by Victoria’s Secret.
The ring on his finger glinting in the sunlight drawn from the skylight above. He wasn’t even aware what i was saying.
I just can’t stand how people can just sit there and not listen to me, even when they pretend to…
Yes people do that, go on. He says in an automated response, his voice monotone, his scribbling making circular motions clearly outlining what he saw on the billboard behind me.
I brush my hair behind my ears, my eyes noticing the scars that lined the my wrist, they blared at me, glowing white as if a painful reminder of what was to come in my moments of solitude.
He stands up, pacing, his words drowned out by my thoughts of disgust, if he wouldn’t listen, who would.
The scars glowed hot again, my throat aching from the early morning purge. I was no one, no one. My tears running in a constant stream down my face, i couldn’t help it, i had no one, what could i possibly do.
Random sentences emerged through the psychologist’s rant. It will get to you.
… They cannot help it, they cannot help you, but i know something that can.
He got out his prescription pad, scribbling the words of a pharmaceutical drug, the name appearing all over his desk i noted as i stood up to take the prescription, letters of thanks for his avid support for their sales.
I sniffed back the rest of my soul, and heart, what was left of it. And exited alone, without the warmth of love, consideration, nor care that others would share with me.
Why wouldn’t anyone care for me, all i wanted was the love from someone.
This was nothing out of the ordinary. As i exited the lobby i sat down on the side walk without a care for anything, but my wrenched heart despite the large volumes of traffic rushing past me. I brushed my hair back in a weak attempt to calm it against the rush of wind that passed me with every vehicle, the scars there again, in front of me, a harsh reminder of reality.
What would happen if i lent forward just that little bit, tipping me closer to the edge.
Who would care about me.
This is a story dedicated to all of those who go through this, there is help out there, i’m not talking about the professional kind, there is always someone concerned for your well being, even strangers.
If you need to talk, talk, find someone.
To Read The Previous Episode: Click Here.
To Start The Series From The Beginning: Click Here.
… My eyes, blurring, unable to focus, floating over the wreckage, two cars, one behind ours, in the middle of the intersection, Mel crouching over something, her body heaving, sobbing, a body.
This feeling was like nothing i had ever felt before, i felt normal, yet with something missing. Obviously my body, yet something more than the physicality behind it.
I look onwards as the ambulances arrive, they approached slowly as if they had all the time in the world, assessing the situation at hand, three of the six approach my body, taking vitals, whilst the remaining two check on Mel and the man in the car beside us who had lost control.
Mel brushing them away, oblivious to the small cuts and gashes along her head and arms where the glass had shattered. Everything still moving slowly, from the rotation of the sirens to the leaves tumbling across the intersection passing in between the concerned and curious onlookers, once impatient upon getting home, the harsh reality of what could have been them, struck their hearts and minds.
Mel cursing the man who caused this accident, her unheard words brushing past his ears no longer absorbing sounds in his unconscious state. The pain on her eyes clearly showing, concern for me, concern for my safety and my future, guilt and shame glimmering briefly across her face only to be hidden by love and worry.
I noticed that the paramedics were quickening the pace of their CPR, odd I thought, CPR shouldn’t change in rate, then I noticed numerous thinks speeding up, the talk of the onlookers increasing in pace, i look to the breeze, it began moving at a normal pace, suddenly things started quickening, faster and faster, everything became a blur, a bright flash of light.
My eyes opened, blinking furiously at the lights of the ambulance that i was now being placed into. Mel right beside me, her eyes bloodshot, tears resting on her cheeks. She gave out a whimper of relief. Her arm stroking mine.
I was alive.
To read the next episode: Click Here
They sit on the opposite sides of the battle field, three of them, seeking the final goal: survival.
The field, filled with spent bullets, blood, remains of bodies, vehicles and buildings.
The opponents, staring at each other, in silent protest of the battle, they know it is wrong, yet they know it is necessary.
Bloodied, bruised, and ready to retreat; each opponent plots their next move.Sweat pouring off brows, bodies aching.. Seeking that warm bed and shower, company of the loving family. But it will not be found, the bloodshed will continue.
They sit on the opposite side of the living room, three of them, seeking the final goal: victory.
The lounge filled with broken objects, remains of friendships, love, and affection. The opponents staring each other, regretting the battle that has ensued, knowing it is wrong, but necessary.
Hurt, bruised and ready to retreat into their shells; each opponent plots their next move. Sweat pouring off brows, hearts aching… seeking that warm embrace and love, the company of a happy family. But it will not be found, the heartbreak will continue.
Tomorrow will be the day three years prior in which i saw my best friend take their life.
This was a very traumatic point in my life, i had no idea what i myself, could do.
Her name was Rebecca, she was 15 at the time, to many she was a carefree, kind and a sweet young teen. In a sense she was, but people in their self concentrated lives were too busy to notice the other traits in which she hid, yet screamed for recognition in an attempt to save herself.
I was on school holidays at the time, when i met Bec, we met on pure chance, bumping into each other at the local park where i enjoyed reading books to get away to my imagination, a realm where i can escape the passing by of the world.
She tripped over me whilst walking across the grass, deciding to look up to the sky at that very moment not seeing my body as i joined her path.
We connected, becoming good friends, we shared secrets, i learnt about her troubles and helped her through it, she told me once; I’m not afraid of dying, its the only inevitability in our lives. I will never forget those words.
The reason she feared dying was being forgotten.
I tried my best, yet she was in a dark place, unable to reach out and grab the hand desperate to pull her out. I grabbed hold at once, enough to begin pulling her out, she got better, slowly but surely, we spent a lot of time together.
But she let go.
All i remember were her pleading eyes.
I wish things were different, it would be nice to see her smile again.
Don Ritchie, i met him around a year ago on pure coincidence, having known of him through a friend.
For those who do not know of Don Ritchie, you may recognise him by the name: “Guardian Angel”.
Don Ritchie is a man who for over 50 years has watched over a cliff known as: “The Gap” the most notorious suicide location in Sydney, the worst in all of Australia with local residents suggesting that at least one person a week has attempted to commit suicide in that location.
However, this a majority of the time prevented by Don, and his voluntary service to watch over the lonely and desperate people who attempt to leave the world. To date Don reckons he has saved over 160 lives through personal assistance, and witnessed many more deciding better, and leaving.
Yet many do leave, however, upon meeting him i thanked him personally for being able to save my friends life. Three years ago my one of my friends attempted suicide at that very spot, whilst Don did not push into his personal life, he offered my friend to come to his house and talk things through.
Today marks the three years in which my friend attempted to end his life, thankfully he is still around today, all because of this man who asks for nothing in return, but the preservation of life and happiness.
It is Don who gave me the reason for caring so much, to understand that many need it, not necessarily anything major, but someone to talk to, someone to care.
And i do, still to this day, with everyone i meet, as many of you know.
To those who do not know me well, i always offer this, there is only one time where i am not contactable, and that is in 80 or so years when my time has come.
Until then you may ask for any assistance. Any whatsoever.
It does not bother me, no matter what you think.
I do it because i care.
There is always help.
I walk through the doors as they open expectantly, waiting for me enter.
Entering the whitewashed room, blinding to my eyes. I look around, ignoring the overweight woman behind the counter. Spying the floor plan behind her.
I know my direction. Her protests ignored, i walk down the hall passing people sitting, sullen, heads bowed, this is a place of sadness, death, unhappiness and bad news. All eye contact was avoided. My piercing eyes met no others.
I hated this place.
I waited by the elevator, absorbing the details around me, nurses, doctors passing without a secondary glance. I do not know how they cope, i am not sure how i shall cope.
I never wanted to hear those words spoken to me over the phone.
Those ground breaking words.
I am brought back to the point of realisation, the point where fear struck me like an unstoppable train. “Sir, your partner is in critical condition, she’s just been hit my a truck. You may want to come in, we aren’t sure whether she’ll come through” Silence
“Sir? Sir? This may be you’re only chance.” Ironic, that my fear most likely hit me just as hard.
The elevator dings once more, bringing me up through the shock, self-pity, regret, and the horrors of the hell that i had been introduced to.
I walk slowly through the also whitewashed hall, symbolic of heaven, what a joke, this wasnt heaven, i hadnt been brought back from hell.
I was still in it.
I found her room.
Time stopped. Everything around me continuing, people panicking, bringing in patients. Doctors and nurses moving briskly.
My heart cried out. Shattering into a million pieces, this wasn’t how i wanted her to go. A mass of bandages, cords, and monitors, keeping her alive. The beeping of a monitor replacing the beat of her heart.
This wasn’t her, this wasn’t how i could say goodbye, she had already left.
She had already gone.
I flicked off all switches, no consultation from doctors, i wanted it for her, i wanted it for myself. To put her at peace.
But i had to live the war, the war of sadness and despair.
I sat, tears forming, gasping for air.
I had gone too. My heart with her.
As I look into the night sky, and see a million stars,
I can’t help but wonder where on earth you are.
You seem so far away to me.
I want to know you care.
Especially because, oh how I love the moments that we shared.
It always saddened me that it had to end this way.
Oh damn people for their destruction,
and how you joined this fray.
You know you mean the world to me,
It’s hard to believe you see,
Just how strong you are,
And all that you can be.
How happy you are,
and how free you can be,
You know you are
the only one for me.