Past Life


Michaela Jones

photography taken by Michaela Jones

Anonymous Student

A black bruise speckled with purple and green began to form. I’ve become so tired of this, yet every time they appear, I feel terrified. One around my neck, another around my wrist, they spread. This time is much worse than ever before. I look at myself in the mirror and watch as more lacerations and bruises slowly appear. My body begins to throb, I have never felt more pain than when these mornings begin. But again, this was not the same. I began to gasp for air as I feel my ribs jolt backwards, then crack.

The space of my room turns black. All background noise stopped, and silence has swallowed the room. I can see nothing now but a white light in the distance. Walking towards the glow, I feel the air get thinner and colder. My breaths become sharper and more painful as I walk. Closer to the light I get. My legs begin to crack, and my ankles break. I am pulling myself closer to the florescence and fighting through the pain.

The gleaming that continues to call me pours out as I open the door between us. I see a girl, afraid and hopeless. In front of the girl stands the devil herself. The little girl sits in the corner, with her head between her knees; she protects her face from the blows of her offender. Harder the devil hits her and stronger the pain I feel. Each time the girl is hit, a bruise appears on my body, the same place where she was struck. I scream out at Evil and plead with her to stop. The pain from watching this girl give up is just as bad as the pain of my injuries. Once more I scream, this time louder. Evil disappears and the girl is left; by herself, and suffering through the pain. She looks up, this hopeless girl was me.