Excellent A biographic story of the worst night of my life Reflections by Zach Gallows True Story Contest contest entry Artwork by Raoul D'Harmental at FanArtReview.com

Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of violence. Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of language. The movies lie.      Death is no big event. Forget about the choirs of symphonic voices welcoming you home. There is no bright light to guide you through to the other end of the tunnel. There is nothing. Only darkness.      Crushing, unending, darkness.      First you feel hopeless. Something hurts deep inside, but you don’t know what. It feels like a demon that needs to be exorcized. There’s only one way to go about doing that.      Like watching yourself through a camera lens. Floating serene and ethereal as your body goes through the motions. It’s happening to someone else; you say, it could never happen to you. No, not you. It’s a lie we tell ourselves.      But it is happening. Handful after handful of painkillers, check. Opiates for that light calm, check. Beer or whiskey to wash it all down, check. Preferably both. A knife with a keen edge, check.      Well, it could have been a bit sharper. Following the motions like a marionette on a string. The blade dances lithely upon the skin leaving crimson tracks. It should have hurt, but the amount of pills swallowed render the body unfeeling.      Before you know it there’s a cold pit in your stomach like somebody’s just squeezed your balls. It’s all you can do to crawl to the couch as your legs become sacks of jelly.      The vision dims like looking through binoculars the wrong way. There’s pounding up the steps and then you’re surrounded by swimming faces you don’t know. Questions bounce off your impervious mind, unable to register. Trying to explain, to ask, to beg for help but the words fall like marbles from your mouth.      And then everything is black.      Next, you’re barely conscious and there’s a foreign face hovering above your own. Blinding light wreaths the head like a halo and you can’t help but think you’re looking at an angel guiding you home. He might as well be, where you’re going.      Blank.      A cacophony of voices pound inside your skull like bees swarming inside a hive. Unintelligible at first, overlapping and countless, merging as one. Then a singular echo breaks through the murky clouds of your mind, louder and clearer than the rest. You cling to it. It is a life raft and you’ve fallen overboard.      “Can you hear me?” The voice reverberates through the mists. You try to answer but your own voice is lost to the deep. You know what you try to say, but the words either come out jumbled or not at all.      What’s your full name?      What’s your birthday?      What’s your address?      Her face is tan. Blond locks fall in curls around her white coat.      “What’s your full name?”      I’ve told you.      “What’s your birthday?”      I told you.      “What’s your address?”      I TOLD YOU      “Birthday?”      I TOLD YOU      “Name?”      What      “Address?”      Is      “Name?”      Happening      Blank.      Now you have to piss like a three-dicked dog, but you can’t feel your legs. There is no strength in your limbs to roll yourself over, so you just let it go. The hot, wet flood soaks into your crotch, your sweats, the sheets. It’s not the first time tonight. It won’t be the last.      AT least you’re alone now. The voices have grown quiet. The room is dim. Figures move like amorphous shadows behind frosted glass. “Just watch him” a voice says in the distance.      “Can’t leave him alone.”      And then you’re not alone, not anymore. She slunk into the room like a wounded animal. Her bag is jettisoned to a nearby chair. Navy scrubs crinkle as she paces at the foot of the bed, phone in hand. Earbuds dangle from one ear.      “You coward.” Her voice is harsh. Her hair is dark brown, eyes a piercing green slice in the shadows. She looks like a movie star you think you’ve seen but the name doesn’t come.      “Goddamn coward.”      “What?” You say, or at least you think you do. But the word comes out mangled, half of it sticks behind in your throat.      “You coward. Have to waste my time babysitting you.”      “I need to pee.” Ahbnedupee.      “Piss yourself coward. You already have once. I can smell your coward’s piss all over you.”      “Help,” you fumble at your crotch, but it doesn’t matter. Even as you find your shriveled dick your limbs are still wet noodles. The heat comes again, soaking your clothes and skin and then she’s there, standing over you, pinching your gummy worm of a cock. It should hurt but it doesn’t. She pulls and twists and her face is a rictus of pleasure and righteousness.      “You pissing yourself again?” The voice shouldn’t sound human, but it does. “Dirty coward. Soaking your goddamn pants again.” Salty tears creep from the corners of your stinging eyes and trace arcs down your cheeks.      “Didn’t even have the guts to finish the job. Just wasting everyone’s time. I could help you end it. Try again.”      You should have fucking died.      Blank.      Wheels rolling. More faces. Badges. Utility belts. A pistol. Flashlights. A smiling face. Glasses. Kind face. Weightlessness. Vomit.      Blank.      Hallway. Lights. Empty doors flashing by. More vomit.      Blank.      Rolling stops. Strong hands shifting you, pulling and pushing. A new bed. More vomit.      Blank.      Sweatpants. Vomit. A dark room. Vomit. Orange light looking down. Vomit.      Blank.      A stranger at the foot of the bed. Reading in silence. Vomit, but not as much this time. She seems nice. She reads to you.      Blank.      Vomit, even less. It’s slowing down now.      Blank.      Needles poking, jabbing. Blood drawing. A new face. Dark skin and grey hair. A kind smile. Again, he looks like someone famous, but you don’t know who.      Blank.      Blank.      Blank…      Sleep. Maybe.      Sunlight and guilt wash over you in tandem. Your throat is raw and torn and bleeding. The stranger in the chair is watching but also isn’t. You know why she’s really there. Deep down you know. Maybe it should have ended.      Blank. No not this time. This time sleep.      Faces you know. Voices you didn’t realize how much you loved. The warm tightness of hands squeezing yours. Tears are exchanged all around. Bodies ache with racking sobs, but they are all here for you. Because they love you.      People love you.      The sun dawns on a new day. You have a new chance at life.      You are not alone. Author Notes My interrupted visions and swimming thoughts of the night I overdosed.

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