I remember that night when he strangled, stabbed, and left me to bleed. I remember how the knife felt and how cold it was and just ....It was awful. I wanted him to let me die, but he didn't.
It wasn't as awful as the void, though. The void was something...unforgettable.
The void. Cold. Deep. Nothingness. That was when it really began.
"If I'm going to suffer and die, you're coming with me, and the one you love is going to watch while he can do nothing," he whispered in my ear as he tugged on my chain one final time and sent me over the lip down with him.
The first thing I felt was the cold. The cold was just a breath chill at first, but worked up soon to a slight shiver, and then to the unbearable feeling that my very bones were winter ice. Had I been standing in front of a fire with my heavy coat on and bundled up, I would feel it still. It was the kind of cold that enters your soul and leaves a deadly, chilling kiss.
The next thing I felt was the oppressive darkness, wrapped around me. The vastness of the nothingness. It was oxymoronic; there was nothing as far as the eye could see, yet it crowded in close around me. Agoraphobic and claustrophobic at the same time. Strangely enough I felt a wind, but it was not the air that was moving, it was the nothingness itself, playing at my neck, tugging at the tendrils of my hair.
After that it was the loneliness. An oppressive feeling that I was well and truly alone no matter where I went, who I talked to, or what I did, fell on my shoulders. It was a somber numbness, almost a like a shock so strong you are driven mute for life. Everyone was dead to me, and I was dead to them, cursed to be alone, separate.
I wasn't the same when they finally were able to pull me out. No one could ever be the same after the void.
It wasn't as awful as the void, though. The void was something...unforgettable.
The void. Cold. Deep. Nothingness. That was when it really began.
"If I'm going to suffer and die, you're coming with me, and the one you love is going to watch while he can do nothing," he whispered in my ear as he tugged on my chain one final time and sent me over the lip down with him.
The first thing I felt was the cold. The cold was just a breath chill at first, but worked up soon to a slight shiver, and then to the unbearable feeling that my very bones were winter ice. Had I been standing in front of a fire with my heavy coat on and bundled up, I would feel it still. It was the kind of cold that enters your soul and leaves a deadly, chilling kiss.
The next thing I felt was the oppressive darkness, wrapped around me. The vastness of the nothingness. It was oxymoronic; there was nothing as far as the eye could see, yet it crowded in close around me. Agoraphobic and claustrophobic at the same time. Strangely enough I felt a wind, but it was not the air that was moving, it was the nothingness itself, playing at my neck, tugging at the tendrils of my hair.
After that it was the loneliness. An oppressive feeling that I was well and truly alone no matter where I went, who I talked to, or what I did, fell on my shoulders. It was a somber numbness, almost a like a shock so strong you are driven mute for life. Everyone was dead to me, and I was dead to them, cursed to be alone, separate.
I wasn't the same when they finally were able to pull me out. No one could ever be the same after the void.
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