This is a journal piece that I had to continue. Well, not continue really. Mrs. Reagles wrote the end and I matched my begginning to fit it. I tried as best I could, it's a little depressing but I think the message within is a thoughtful one. Hope you like it--leave comments! (Can you tell when it starts to be her writing? Let me know!)
A roaring vehicle hurled itself down the highway, diving in and out of the schools of traffic. I noticed this, and watch with drooping eyelids from a sleepless night. I walk with listless limps along the side of the urgent highway; I could only vaguely recall my once targeted car here, but with great will I had suppressed that memory deep into the depths of my numbness—because in numbness, nothing is felt.
I continued my slow walk when I saw again, the rapid car interrupting the flow of traffic. I stare. My compressed pressure that had withheld the numb started to release with noisy air. Except on the outside, I was silent, and frozen. The balloon inside me once pressured of air was letting out, and as more and more broke, my fright grew and grew, soaring high into the sunlight above the grayed clouds. The car, black like before, hurtled itself towards me. It was the dart and I was the balloon, waiting for the end. No adrenaline came to me, my shock overwhelmed all of my screaming nerves. My muscles started to ache of the future pain that I had compressed before. My balloon was almost deflated, my energy flowing with it.
The car screeched and lurched for the side of the highway, I stare again, my eyes and feet unmoving. I felt the metal, heard the screams, tasted the blood, smelled the smoke, and saw only the swift blackness of the car.
For a moment I lay there, willing my pain to come, wanting it to come with anxiety that had not reached me before. It was a second chance, a chance to renew. But as I had wished, the pain washed upon me, merciless and strangling. If I do not survive, then what was it worth? The pain, the screams all that I had not welcomed into my soul… now just to die from it? Was it a joke? Karma? Some sick way to teach me a lesson of humanity? Finally, I plunge myself into the darkness, a forcing and yet peaceful feeling passed over me as I go. I inflate my balloon with remaining breaths, hoping for escape.
Then there was nothing -- only a silence that filled my ears like honey. It dripped down, insulating me from the world outside my closed eyes. For several moments, I succumbed to this silence, welcomed it, and hoped that perhaps it would last an eternity.
It didn't. From a distance, I could hear voices calling. My name floated on the wave of voices as they crested and grew louder, disturbing my silence like the squeezing of my balloon.
When it popped, I finally opened my eyes and faced the world again.
It didn't. From a distance, I could hear voices calling. My name floated on the wave of voices as they crested and grew louder, disturbing my silence like the squeezing of my balloon.
When it popped, I finally opened my eyes and faced the world again.
