Blogomattic A Fine Line Between a Story and Reality

Arrival

Random creative outburst:

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I awaken. My eyes slowly come into focus and I realize I have no idea where I am. “Just how did I get here?” I say out loud, rather unintentionally. My head hurts. This is no typical headache, I’m used to those. This is something I have only felt once before. “Oh God, no.” I am on my feet in a flash. I look for a clock and a calendar. In my haste, I fail to realize I am wearing a watch. Its 3:12 on October 19. The watch has no year.

“I have to find something that will give me some indication of a year.” I say aloud. Under normal circumstances, I would be excessively self-conscious about talking to myself audibly, this is no time to worry about it. I find an unopened bill, “Please let it be any year but this.” While I hope, I know that my worst fear has come true. October 21, 2009 is when I tried to kill myself for the second time. The first was when I was in high school, but it wasn’t too serious of an attempt. This time, however, it was bad. This time I meant it, and this time it was particularly messy. I had lost so much blood that I wasn’t coherent enough to realize that the paramedics had been called.

I remember waking up three days later in a great deal of pain. My family wasn’t present, and I wasn’t surprised. I knew the second I was conscious that they had disowned me. A few months prior to that event, I had begun to mentally time travel. It is, honestly, one of the reasons I tried to kill myself. But why did I have to come back to today? I wouldn’t try to kill myself for two days. Then I remembered that this was the day I made the first big jump back in 2009. This was a memory marker day. That’s why I came back. I don’t jump at random. Maybe I was here to stop myself. But then I realized no one tried to stop me, so if it didn’t happen, it can’t.