I fell into a dark place, darker than the recesses of my mind. I was at the bottom of a pit, the end of a ditch, I had nothing left to hold on to, but dear life. My chest felt a severe congestion. I was barely breathing and I was gasping for air. I couldn't move beyond the steel panels I was stuck in.
Was this it?
Does this end here?
There was blood everywhere. It felt like at any moment, death could take me, and I would leave this place. I cannot embark in a state of brokenness. Nothing mattered but the next moment. I prayed that this moment would not be my last, so I called out for help. Someone answered my prayer and someone heard my call.
A guy stomped down the stairs, and asked me for my name. He stood from a distance, told me that he would get me out of the escalator shaft and that he wanted me to continue talking to him, while he assembled his efforts. He asked me how old I was, and where I felt pain. He explained that he would need to cut through the steel panels to get me out. I had forgotten to feel pain, as I laid there lifeless, I tasted the dirt and blood on my face and fought for air.
In the next moment, they carried me on a stretcher, into an ambulance and brought me to the hospital. It became a rush and a blur. The doctor asked who he should contact, and I managed to give him my mum's number. I kept telling him that I couldn't breathe, that there was so much pain, and I eventually passed out into nothingness.
The accident is now a prologue to my present. With all things that end, something begins. Life after would hardly be the same. The counsellors never ceased to ask me if I had nightmares about the accident but what they didn't understand was where the real nightmare began. Physical pain was nothing compared to the pain of gathering the remnants of what was left broken after that freak accident.
I can't change what happened. Alot of things went into play that led me at that exact time and place. Bigger things were at work and it wasn't an exact science that could be understood.
It is not strength that has kept me alive. I am not an inspiration. Everyday, I battle depression, and fight an insatiable appetite for destruction. That January robbed me of alot of things, apart from my ability to walk. My spine was crushed, as were my hopes and dreams. It was painful to look back, but it was more painful to look ahead.
Here is not where you'll find a conclusion. Here is a place of hope and despair. Here is a soul in destitude. Here is love and fear. Here has no beginning nor an end.