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A Life Called Death

About one who was cursed to die

By Sylvia RogersPublished 7 months ago 2 min read
A Life Called Death
Photo by I.am_nah on Unsplash

Taunt eyes and a deep set jaw, stare back at me. A curling knot sets in my stomach; fear.

“Who are you?” I whispered out to the strange creature. His head cocked to the left, his eyes watered. I stayed still, puzzled by the marvelous being. He has a broken bone in his leg and a gushing wound on the other side. I want to help but I do not know how. I bent down and pulled myself towards him.

The animal is unnatural with its glazed-over, beady eyes. His scruffy hair untamed. A small whimper escapes him as he cries out, “do you not even recognize a human even when one is right in front of view?”

A human. He was right. I could not distinguish what a human was anymore. Who even was I? I had thought he was an unnatural animal.

I reached my hand out towards him. I was shaking and I hoped he would not notice. He let me touch his face. It was warm and smeared with dirt.

My heart ached. This poor man or maybe he was a boy; I could not judge his age. His face looked youthful but his eyes held memories, older than my own.

My hand found a way to his wound, he flinched away. The blood stained my fingers. I looked at it. Red. Darker than any berry I had ever seen.

“What have we come to?” The male moaned out. His voice was gruff and his tone hopeless as he bent his head back and laughed. He was becoming hysterical and I knew all hope was lost of helping him.

A tear fell down my face, just watching him. He turned his hand over and reached for me. I could not do this, I pushed myself away.

“Do not leave me,” he begged. He reached for me again but he could not get to me because of his limp leg. I shook my head trying to deter him.

I felt ashamed of myself but there was nothing left for me to do. I stood up as tears streamed down his face.

“Please forgive me,” I murmured in anguish. A cold sweat went down my spine and I looked up toward the gray sky.

Then I turned on my heel and sprinted into the howling forest. His screams followed. I did the worst crime out there; I left behind a human. An innocent being. Not a creature, not an animal, not a monster. A human.

What had become of me? What had become of the whole of humanity?

I tripped over a root of a tree and rolled into the mud. Rain started to fall. Or was it just my tears streaming down my face?

A loud bang came from the direction of the human. A gun. He had a gun. I knew what he did.

Guilt pierced my heart. The fault was mine. I left him there. I didn't even know he was a human.

A scream escaped me, my throat feeling dry. I looked down at my hand. Fingers coated in blood. His blood. His blood in my hand. His life in my hand. I squeezed my palm and fingers together. The rain washed the red away. I was washed away with it.

This human made me fall apart.

I pressed my head into the ground. How could I have left him?

This is what I have become.

Psychological

About the Creator

Sylvia Rogers

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    SRWritten by Sylvia Rogers

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