Knife In The Heart : Part II

(Part 1 from 1. Fiction.)

***I dont know if its still being submitted, or whatever, but this is a remake of the last part II, so if the last one also gets submitted, you can tell the difference by noticing that the remake has a question mark at the end of the title ***

At first all I see is a blue, florescent ball of light in a vast ocean of nothingness. I cant feel or see myself, all I know is that my eyes are telling me that I'm in this melancholy "wonderland". For what seems like hours, I stare at this strange ball of light, wondering if this is just another high, conjured at the end of a pipe. But I quickly dismiss the thought, knowing that I actually got shot by Alec, my dealer, after telling him I quit and I didn't have a use for him anymore. I guess dealers don't like losing money.

Am I dead? Is this what kind of Hell I was put in? Or is this just some God awful eternal nightmare where I can't escape from? Either way, they're both pretty bad. With all these thoughts swimming around me, it takes a while to notice that the ball of light is forming into something new. The blue fades to a dullish green, and starts to bleed, like ink on wet paper, on an invisible wall.

A strange picture forms from the bleeding mesh; a tree with... a child hang--... no, a... man hanging... what the hell...? Where am I? The roots of the bleeding tree inches towards my sight, up my invisible body and bores into my vision, til my vision fades to black


After a while, as my vision settles to the darkness, a new image appears. A spit image of... me... sitting cross-legged with a pipe in my hand. But then I hear a very familiar voice. I cant make out some of the words at first, but the conversation gets louder. I can make out a few words like "I trusted you" and "You need help". It takes me a few moments to realize that the voice belongs to my father. I know what this image is supposed to mean.

But as soon as the image comes, it goes. The spit image of me bursts into a million stars, leaving me to the nothingness, and my father's voice dims to a low hum. Nothing but a dull nothingness. Nothingness... "Nothingness--", wait, did I just talk...!? But I don't have a body--! A sharp, burning pain in my stomach. Oh my god, PAIN. Oh, how I missed pain. I put my hands on my stomach, but stare at my fingernails, my fingers, the tops of my hands in quiet awe, despite the fact that the fact that the pain in my stomach, and smile to myself, thinking that maybe I can escape this surreal

***

For what seems like hours, days, weeks, months, years even, I lay on my back, looking up at the nothingness that hangs above me. The pain in my stomach has not subsided, but I honestly don't care, it's almost like an old friend keeping me company in this strange world; I don't want it to go away.

Physical pain can really get you through a lot. But as time goes on, the strange world of nothingness slowly fades into something new: a room with a white ceiling, colorful paintings on the wall, a vace of withered roses on a small wooden table, and my mom and sister looking down on me. I'm back. Holy fuck I'm back.

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