Glare
The light fell a few inches shy from his feet as he stood at the edge of the darkness. The ring of the spotlight was just within reach yet it seemed like a long distance from his standpoint. A feeling of refreshing security hung around him as he stood alone in a crowded room, feeling safe because no one could see who he was. He heard the invisible people in the room as they shuffled their feet waiting for someone to step into the light. The anticipation that hung in the air was enhanced as the atmosphere around him became more contrived with each fleeting moment.
Torn apart by choice, he felt the battle that raged on underneath his skin as he fought against his indecision. Confused as to what he wanted more, to stay in the darkness or walk into the light, he cursed himself for being this way. With every moment his curiosity grew and his urge for recognition became the itch that could never be scratched. The part of him holding him back was slowly subsiding, he knew. It was giving up in lingering trepidation, yet the choice was being made clear. Suddenly something inside him snapped and he felt his feet moving, by the orders of some unknown force within. The chains that were holding him had been broken and he took the two steps into the light slowly.
The light was blinding and it burnt his skin. A quiet hush filled the room as the air of anticipation was replaced by curiosity propelled into the room by the minds and eager eyes of the crowd. He felt the eyes bearing into him as they tried to read him. Every move he made was now visible to the world. The strength he found in stealth was no longer potent. His life was on display and what he thought would be effective for the soul was now disintegrating him from the inside. It hurt too much. It hurt to show his face and the scars that he had accumulated on his journey. Here he was showing off the things he had wanted to hide, to a roomful of strangers, giving out an open invitation for anybody to take their shot at him, be it with compassion or malice. All he searched for was to feel vindicated for the choices he made, and now he found himself regretting the very decision to move forward.
There was something about the light which empowered his weaknesses over the little strength that he built up in the darkness. Warning signals went off inside his head as he realized everyone could see the fear and weakness in his eyes. He tried to hide it but failed miserably. Like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck, he stood his ground indecisive and remorseful, hating himself for every choice he had made along the way. He felt the crowd around him leeching off on his weak mental state, like bloodthirsty vampires in the presence of fresh prey. It was too late to turn around and go back into the darkness. They knew who he was. Even if he wanted to, he could not move within the spotlight because the crowd had closed in on him giving him no space to breathe. Transfixed to his decision, he fought a losing battle against immobility.
He felt everything that he built up crumbling around in the light. The light gave away his weaknesses to the world, while reflecting them again to him. He could see himself the way the world did, and he was not satisfied with what he could see. The frailties which he thought were cleverly concealed within his daily façade, the ones he deliberately erased from his life, and made believe they never existed; the ones which he sought redemption from were now all visible. Old wounds were opening and there was no way to stop the blood surge.
His heart was pounding in his chest as he felt the force of the crowd increasing. A few words to break the silence; a pathetic excuse for self defense, the last resolution against a strong opponent. He cleared his throat and racked his brain, yet the thoughts got lost along the way to verbal liberation and he found himself speaking in silence.
This had got to end.
He reached into his jacket and felt his fingers close around the cold steel of his Beretta M9. A moment of hesitation passed as he pondered his actions. He could not trust his decisions anymore, yet from his myopic viewpoint this was the only way out. The gun slid into his hand comfortably as it was released from its daily confinement in his jacket.
He looked directly into the light and shut his eyes; raising his hand he squeezed the trigger with an extremely confident blind aim, feeling the force of the bullet pulsate his body with liberation. The silence of the room was shattered by the gunshot and a bloodcurdling scream as the world was enveloped in darkness.
I have no words to describe how I felt when I read this.
Kudos, as always
Wow. It just gripped me. Wonderfully sad and real.