Week 15

"The venue in which I find myself recollecting the events that occurred on the night of her murder is appropriate. The chair with its rusting iron armrests and solid oak body is symbolic of the imprisoned mental state in which I find myself. A candle lit on the desktop flickers impatiently and seems to burn loudly in this cacophony of silence. If anyone were to enter this place they would first notice the cavernous appearance, seemingly abysmal but full of dark wonder. The concrete walls and floor neither let in nor let escape sound. Cracks run vertically, some all the way up to the ceiling, hints of water dripping through, their final destination a small puddle. Almost putrid is the stench that encompasses me right now. The human ability to adapt to an environment allows such things to go unnoticed after a short amount of time, but upon entering it can be quite shocking to the senses. A staircase in the back of the room is the only means of entering and exiting, and even it traps blackness, leaving no feeling of hope for truly escaping the memories that I reminisce in this dismal void.

I come here not because I want to be reminded, but because I feel that facing the truth is the only liberation still remaining. Less liberating is the fact that I continue to feel the same. No, not guilty or responsible, but rather apathetic. It has been said that apathy is a dangerous state of mind, and I imagine it applies to this situation as well. There is no fine line between love and likeness of another person. These lines are drawn clearly, like lines in the sand that is the chemical makeup of the brain. Having lingered so steadily between both emotions for so long has left my body a wreck, a harbor for all things deleterious.

Today marks one month since her soul was released from the physical world and into the vast eternity that is unknown to any mortal being. It is impossible to imagine that she would find serenity, even happiness, in death. Sometimes I wonder if anyone can doubt his or her worth to such a degree that death would be rectifying, but then again, I can’t say that she ever really tried to appreciate life..."