Unkempt Artistry of Words

│6│Mirthless

                                   This whole scenario is grim.                     

                  Everything feels mirthless.                                      And so is the life I once lived.

As I sat cross-legged in the middle of the riotous road, my gaze fixated on the bustling world before me, I couldn't help but feel like an outsider. The incessant honking of cars and the cacophony of voices only made me feel more isolated as if I didn't belong in this world at all. It was as if the universe had made a mistake in creating me, and I was an anomaly that didn't fit in. My mind was a whirlwind of emotions - loneliness, despair, and hopelessness - that I couldn't seem to escape. The longing for someone to share my life with, to hold my hand through the ups and downs, consumed me. But the realization that it would never come to fruition only intensified the ache in my heart.

I felt like a lost soul, a wanderer without a purpose, a mere speck in the vast expanse of the universe. Every fiber of my being ached for a connection, for someone who would understand my deepest fears and insecurities. The night sky, with its twinkling stars and infinite darkness, was my only companion. It seemed to empathize with my pain, and for a moment, I felt heard. Despite the crushing weight of my emotions, I found solace in knowing that the universe was listening to my silent screams. It was comforting to know that even in my darkest moments, something out there cared.

The moment the massive truck came hurtling towards me, my heart skipped a beat. In that instant, my mind was transported to the far reaches of my past, and I was overwhelmed by a wave of emotions. I found myself reminiscing about all the moments I had experienced in my life, and how much I had always longed to live more fully.

But despite my best efforts, it seemed like the world had never allowed me to truly live my life to the fullest. It feels pathetic to dwell on all of these when the life that was robbed wasn't mine to keep, but a life that someone has regarded so deeply, that it resonated with their soul. If... what he told me was even true.

Would he be thinking of me at this moment? Could he be reminiscing about our past too? As I see the world end before my eyes, a painting of colors splattered all over me, primarily the shades of scarlet and wine.

Viscous and dense. Bloody and murky. Ghastly and harrowing. Cynical and abysmal. A perfect blend of ebony and vermillion melded well with the grainy asphalt ground, my cadaver becoming the aqueduct.

I could feel my ears ringing in torment, my head throbbing from the impact, and my appendages lax from being crushed. An agglomeration of shadows surrounds me gradually as I try my hardest to numb the pain. I reached for an arm and stretched it out to somewhere. My sight was blurry but I could still make out a silhouette of a man, standing from a distance, my ears canceling all the noises.

It was him. The person I wouldn't want to be associated with again.

After being my closest friend; someone I could trust enough with my life; and after once leaving me for dead in my room, he has finally shown his presence to me, maybe bold enough to assume my death upon seeing my lifeless body on the road. He must be feeling triumphant about how he succeeded in making me lose - making me give up life and making me feel like a useless pile of junk that he discarded upon savoring its use.

The ache feels heavy and so is the blood sapping out of my skin as if I was being eaten from the inside out.

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