I can remember the first day I realized I was different. I was 29 and it was march 12. I was supposed to die that day, for that was the day that my father committed suicide and I was to join in the family tradition. Razor blade in hand and what seemed to be gallons of blood on the floor I awaited destiny.
... but destiny did not come, Chalimi did. He lay with me caressing my hair and soothing me with words of comfort and pain. He had come before in the years past and was/is a great friend to me. He covered the wounds now slowly seeping and oozing with thick caustic blood. "Not your time" He murmured.
How long I had rested there while listening to his serenade was unknown to me. When Chalimi came time seemed to be lost. The world seem different, darker and melancholy. He was/is my protector. Even from myself he preserves my life. Never letting harm come to me, and bashing away those that threaten my sanity with words so harsh they run screaming "I HATE YOU".
Yes, I'll never forget that day. It was an awakening.
 drt_t1gg3r · Tue Jan 12, 2010 @ 07:42pm · 0 Comments |
