by Ben Davies

Created on: April 24, 2009   Last Updated: April 25, 2009

Today, I am going to do something drastic. I have a parasite sucking every emotion out of my lifeless living body. I am a shell. A box. Not a human, at least, not how a human should be. I am glancing around my house. It's grey and ordinary. The envelopes on the colourless counter contain payments, the television, slightly dusty, is playing an ordinary programme. I hate that word- ordinary - I hate being ordinary. At least today I won't be.

I am out. The air is thick with anticipation and pollen. The grass is shockingly green - ironicall, today is a beautiful day. Even the black pavement looks sunny, yet nothing is making my stalker brighter.

I remember when I was little, I had dreams about dying. They were the best dreams; exhilerating, tragically beautiful. Is it strange to envy these visions of my end? From the first dream, I knew how I would go. It feels good to be living out this fantasy.

Ahead of me, there is a slug. Revolting though I find it, I pick it up. In this concrete world, someone needs to care, if not for me, someone for this helpless creature. I put it on a flower, a prized petunia.

I hold my breath. Start counting...4...this isn't so bad...maybe I'll do it this time - get to 100...26...everything is shaking...39...I exhale magnificently. I can't even do that properly.

I reach the sea front. The ocean looks peaceful and inviting. There is a slight breeze in the air lifting my spirits.

The vast blue expanse stretches out in front of me. I can't fight off the feeling that I am being watched, but I can't care less. From my flawed ledge, the sunlight can be seen hitting the glassy surface, reflecting off in reams of spectacular white light.

I hear a crack.

Something is cracking beneath my feet, but I am mesmerised by the liquid, and ignore it. I feel invincible here, strange considering I am so close to death.

Another crack.

My legs are stone columns, too stubborn to move. I am not safe, but I am happy. The horizon curves at the edge of my vision. A soft glow emanates from it, and if it were quieter, I would probably hear a gentle humming sound from it. I want to go there.

Overhead, a black cloud looms. It has been following me for days, weeks, months, I can never remember, but it doesn't matter any more, because I am here.

I draw a final breath and force my feet to jump. They jerk.

My senses scream as I hit the icy mirror...

I am Silver, and I am not ordinary.

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