literature

Melancholia- Prologue

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It's not a very pretty point you reach in your life when you're doubled over, wretching your guts up into a toilet, over and over, head spinning so badly, you feel like the room you're in is actually turning round and round.
It's ugly.
When you've passed out on the floor and wake up only to dry heave no less than eight times…
And to make things worse, this isn't a college drunk fest we're talking about. What we're describing here is hopelessness. So much built up anger and aggression… the feeling of being trapped to the point where a bottle of gin is your last resort and you literally wolf down the entire bottle before you've even realize what you've done.
That's where the spinning and the vomiting start.
And you do this in a house with your 2-year-old daughter and your little brother, who, terrified, brings you a glass of water and informs you that he's going to put your daughter down for a nap to make things easier on you.
You nod, your head spinning faster than ever as you do so, and then take a sip of the lukewarm water, which you immediately hurl back up.
You pass out. You wake up, dry heave, and pass out again.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
When you wake up again, the house is dark, and you can hear your daughter screaming from a distant room, as your little brother tries desperately to soothe her.
This is the point when you shakily get to your feet and take a good, hard look in the bathroom mirror and see what a disgusting wreck you are.
It's at that moment, where you finally decide that your poor daughter… your little brother, and pretty much everyone you know is burdened by your existence.
You realize how pathetic and useless you are. You've just hit rock bottom and you don't see any way out of the horrible mess that used to be your life.
So what do you do next?
You lock the bathroom door and turn on the bathtub faucet, watching as the tub grows fuller and fuller.
Then, you turn off the faucet, and step into the ice cold water, clothes on, not caring anymore.
As you submerge yourself, tears start to leak out of your eyes. The sound of your daughter crying just makes you hate yourself even more, and you inhale one last labored breath as you plunge your face into the freezing waters and wait, slowly letting your breath float out in bubbles which rise to the surface past your ears.
And then, all your breath is suddenly gone, and your head pounds as you fight with all your might not to inhale that frigid water.
And suddenly, uncontrollably, and shaking like a leaf, you gasp for air, and get nothing but a couple of lungs filled with ice. You convulse. Your head spins. You thrash, forcing yourself to stay underwater as things grow dark and far away.
You can no longer hear your daughter's muffled screaming…
You can no longer feel how cold the water is…
You feel nothing.
You are nothing.
The water has consumed you.
Okay, so before you take a stab and accuse me of whatever garbage you can involving the title of my novel, maybe step back and go look at my latest journal entry. Anyone who has known me for the greater part of my life could tell you that I've been working on this story since I was still in middle school. :]
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Now, for everyone else who already knows about it and all, welcome to my life's work. I'm finally ready! And I think I'll try to post like a chapter a week, or so... Minus the prologue, so you'll probably get a real chapter sometime later today.
Anyway, enjoy.
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