At The Precipice

At the edge of the precipice, I paused. I could feel the darkness sucking at my body, threatening to pull me into the abyss. The cold that rose to greet me was dank and life destroying. I knew that if I gave in now I would be lost forever. There would be no forgiveness, no peace, no release. 

This is not what I'd imagined. I thought death would be a sweet respite, a long blissful sleep away from the turmoil and troubles of the world. I imagined a haven free from pain and suffering, the one shot remedy to disappointment and despair. This was the antithesis of all that. It was the gateway to hell and damnation.

I'd already expected that I was fated for “down there”. Some of my sins were definitely of the mortal kind. It is a dreadful burden to be barely sixteen years of age, yet aware that no matter how well my life may be lived, I had already committed sins so heinous I could never be forgiven. I barely knew why I did them or how I could have done anything else given the circumstances.

I don't believe in a forgiving God. The rules were not made to be broken. If you don't know the rules, if you have not yet found God, then you might be forgiven. But once you know God and you know the rules … no, there is no forgiveness.

So I can either go to hell now, or fight my way back and hope there is a different hell for those who do not die by their own hand. If I go back though, how should I live my life? Commit more mortal sins? Become a criminal? Or become some kind of do-gooder – a nurse say? What's the point? My heart wouldn't be in it. I may as well just die now.

And yet I can't let go. My hands are gripping the edge of the precipice, clamped hard on the rock. My body hugs the ground, resisting the maelstrom flowing over and around me, edging me into its grip. With all my strength, I push away. I know they are behind me only to willing to help. All I have to do is ask.

Their presence confuses me. If I am such a sinner and damned for all time, why are they here? Don't they work for the other side? Perhaps I am missing something. Perhaps I should let them help me.

Please save me, I say.

I sit bolt upright in bed, then stagger to the bathroom and vomit. I call for my Mum and she takes me to the hospital.

I will be all right. I hope.