Falling's Not The Problem -- Darius
Apr 9, 2012 22:00:13 GMT -5
Post by chelsey on Apr 9, 2012 22:00:13 GMT -5
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lorraine mercier.
I’ve fallen out of favor.
And I’ve fallen from grace.
Fallen out of trees.
And I’ve fallen on my face.
And I’ve fallen from grace.
Fallen out of trees.
And I’ve fallen on my face.
[/i] The mere thought drove me crazy - how could one action lead the world to utter destruction? A step taken right instead of left, and suddenly the world would be thrown into ultimate chaos - damaged beyond repair. The idea stuck with me for the next few weeks, gnawing at the back of my mind while I attempted to concentrate on reality. But, still, the thought never left. I still couldn't bring myself to accept it. I still didn't understand how such a thing could ever be possible, or, at the very least, reasonable.What would happen to the world if I never lived?
I remember my father telling me, once, how the entire universe would drastically change if we somehow had the power to go back in time and simply do something different. Even the simplest of things could be the borderline between peace and disaster.
"I don't think your vision is broadened enough, Lori." My father told me one night, chuckling after I finished yet another rant about the subject. The orange glow of the light nearby seemed to vibrate off of my father's contagious laugh, and sent a sense of comfort ripple through me. I raised a puzzled eyebrow at his statement, though, not quite grasping the message behind it. He continued. "You've got to look at the big picture. Yes, maybe one small action could end up destroying everything in it's path. But, you have to understand that one small action could also end up creating eternal peace." His wise words satisfied my previous confusions, putting them all to rest in the back of my mind, where they would wither into nothing and eventually die off.
But, today, they have reappeared. They emerged from the black ashes that buried them and all my other lost dreams, hopes, and thoughts that laid lifeless in the back of my head. And, this time, no wise words could kill them off, again.
What would happen to the world if I never lived?
The thought buoys inside of me, bubbling in the pit of my stomach, until it sinks to the bottom like an anchor - only to spring back up. My father's words ring in my ears with a haunting effect - one small action could end up in eternal peace. He couldn't have been more right.
One small action could've destroyed Panem, crushing the tyrannical government under the heel of it's boot. So many would still be alive today. One small action could've prevented the annual Hunger Games from occurring, violence something unheard of in the media. So many would not kill for mere pleasure. One small action could've stopped my mother from abandoning us, stopped her from running away without even an explanation or a kiss good bye. So many would not have been hurt. One small action could've stopped me from being born, leaving the world without the weight or threat of my existence. Rachel would still be here, today.[/justify][/blockquote]
Fallen out of taxis.
Out of windows, too.
Fell in your opinion.
When I fell in love with you.
Out of windows, too.
Fell in your opinion.
When I fell in love with you.
The people don't bother to look at me as they walk across the bridge that connects one part of District Four to another. Why should they look at me? I'm a pile of skin and bones, the only color to me is the random frenzy of red topping my head. Even my green eyes seem to have lost their color.Yes, the color left, and with it, left all the hope I once might've had.Nothing remains in my irises except for a dull sea green, the shallow and murky waters constantly raging against a storm. Even the pupils seem to have lost it's sense of direction, and, instead, gazes at nothing. Maybe I've gone blind. Not that I'd complain if I did. I may look, but I still don't see.
I'm sitting on the edge of the bridge, secluded from the hustle and bustle of people with places to go and cars with things to honk at. This particular area of Four is always crowded, from sunrise to sunset. The people here are always too busy to stop and look around, too busy to sit and enjoy the scenery, too busy to notice the lives that are taken away here everyday, too busy to even try and stop it from happening. They're too busy, as if they didn't have enough hours in the day. And, as for me, I have way too many hours in the day.
The wind caresses my cheeks with a cold, sharp sting, but I don't flinch back - instead, I raise my face higher to feel the chill brush against my face. My feet are crossed, and swing gently over the water that rushes one hundred meters beneath them. The staggering distance between me and the water below me doesn't raise a flag within me like how it usually would with a normal person. A normal person would be clutching at the edges of this bridge, shouting for someone to come and help him get the hell out of here. I'm not a normal person. I'm not, and maybe that explains why I sit with my back slouched against the railing, hands fiddling in my lap, and eyes staring out at the sun that lowers itself into the darkening ocean.
The colors burst from the sky, an everlasting explosion perfectly blended of red, orange, yellow, and pink. They all bleed from the tip of the sun, stretching from the horizon to the part of the sky that already has the stars laid out. I tip my head back, and count the stars until they're all I see left. The sun is gone.
And, with the sun, has left the busy people and honking cars. I envied every single one of them. They had somewhere to be, something to do. They have a purpose in life, they have something to live for.
Sometimes I wish for falling.
Wish for the release.
Wish for falling through the air.
To give me some relief.
Wish for the release.
Wish for falling through the air.
To give me some relief.
[/i]What did I have to live for? Who did I have to live for?
Mom is gone. Rachel is dead. And, soon, Dad will wither away and eventually die just like the dreams, hopes, and thoughts in the back of my mind. What am I left with then? Who am I left with then? Nothing. No one.
The sickening thought of such loneliness strikes me with a hard blow - knocking the air out of me. I'm stuck paralyzed on the side of the bridge, almost falling off, clutching my arms as if my life depended on it. And maybe, just maybe, my life actually does depend on it.
A shudder shakes from my core, to my spine, and spreads to the tips of my fingers, toes, and even my hair. I'm trembling so hard that I'm almost certain my shakes will send me tumbling down into the black ocean below. The street lamps send white light to bounce off the edges of the waves, and it reminds me of rows of teeth. I gasp in horror at the revelation - the ocean has it's mouth wide open at me, fangs bared, waiting for me to finally fall.But, maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I did fall.
My hands grip at my arms, trying to stop the shivering, until my knuckles go completely white. Even then, I don't let go of myself. I can't let go of myself, even if I wanted to. I can't let go because I'm too damn scared of what might happen if I do let go. My insides will spill out of me - guts, lungs, heart, and all. Oh, there goes my guts and the instincts it came with. There goes my lungs, I guess I won't be able to breath, anymore. There goes my heart, I guess I won't be able to love, anymore.
Then again, did I ever really love to begin with?
I don't know much, but I know enough to understand that love doesn't kill. So, how could I let Rachel die?
Again, the loneliness strikes me painfully, and I feel the wave of tears making their way past the brim of my eyes before they're even falling. But, soon enough, they are. They're falling.
Falling, falling, falling.[/i][/color]
Then a violent thought racks through my body, but I'm trying to push it away with what little strength I have left. But, the thought is persistent, and it doesn't give up. I'm being defeated by my own brain. Or, maybe, just maybe, I didn't even put up a fight.
The thought echoes into the hollow skeleton I've become, bouncing off the walls of my skull. It emerges from the water beneath me, it's voice blending in one with the sound of crashing waves. It beckons me, seduces me, and I crane my neck more over the edge just to hear it more.
You don't have to be alone, any longer, Lorraine. It whispers into my willing ears. All you have to do... is fall.[/justify][/blockquote]
Because falling’s not the problem.
When I’m falling I’m in peace.
It’s only when I hit the ground.
It causes all the grief.
When I’m falling I’m in peace.
It’s only when I hit the ground.
It causes all the grief.
[/i]And, it's then that I realize my thoughts couldn't have been more right.
With a shaky hand, I pull myself up from my position on the bridge, holding the rusted rails with a tight grasp. Then, before I know it, I'm suddenly teeter-tottering over the edge of the bridge, my head bending down at the void that opens before me. The ocean's mouth is opened up at me in a vicious grin, and it never looked more welcoming than now. The wind isn't caressing my cheek, anymore, instead it blows at my face with a powerful force, almost like it wanted to see me fall into the clutches of death itself.
Fall, Lorraine, fall.
It won't be hard for me to fall. A mere inch more and I'd be hurdling into the vast darkness - gone forever. The tears are gushing out more than ever now, pushing past my eyelids and staining my cheeks with salty trails. My head swerves all around me, looking in all directions, looking for busy people, looking for honking cars, looking for refuge, looking for help. The only movement I see is the flickering of a street lamp some meters away from me, but other than that, all is still. The bridge is dull now. Dull and painfully silent. Well, silent except for my choked sobs that echo across the pavement.Sobs soon to be silenced.
No one will witness what I'm about to do next.
This thought tears me in anguish, and I'm clutching the rails until I feel the circulation in my hands stop. What does it fucking matter, though? I'll be dead in seconds, anyway.
I'll be dead in seconds, anyway.
I'll be dead in seconds.
I'll be dead.
The worst part about that thought wasn't the the word "dead." It was the truth that hid underneath it. The truth that I always knew, but never wanted to know. The truth that would never change no matter how much I wanted it to change. The truth that I couldn't bare to hear for one more second. And the truth was this.
No one would care if I was dead.
I feel my grasp on the rail slip before I can even process my actions, but I don't reach out for them again. Instead, I let myself fall.
And I'm falling.
Falling. Falling. Falling.[/i][/color][/justify][/blockquote]
NORMAL // 998877
CHARACTER’S DIALOGUE // BBAA99
OTHER DIALOGUE //BB9966
EMPHASIS // 664433
SOUND TRACK //Falling by Florence + The Machines
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