Saturday, July 7, 2012

Tha mi duilich FGC (2012) #18


"Tha mi duilich" means "I'm sorry" - or "I have regrets" in Scottish Gaelic. 

This was written in response to Write Anything's Form and Genre Challenge , #18 - a Letter under 700 words

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Dear Family,
I want to write this as I don’t want to commit the words to air. As if saying them will make them all the more true. I’m sorry. I want to live. Its ironic now I can’t speak. Voiceless, I have so much I want to say, so much to share, so much to ask.

Yesterday seems such a long time ago. The world bleak, friendless. I trudged through my reality with death in my eyes. Everything shrivelled and colourless, dusty and worn.  Any joy had been cyphered away months ago, trickled away under the scorching criticism of people who don’t even matter. I thought they mattered, but not now.  

I was so certain yesterday. So sure that what I had decided to do was for the best. Best for everyone; really. I’d thought it through and planned for weeks. Everything had been taken care of. You’ll see when you get into my flat. I’ve always been a stickler for details. No bills are outstanding, everything I own has tags and notes on it. Who should get what, so there was’t any disagreements. I didn’t want you to worry.

But I see you are worried now. Looking at me with your sad accusing eyes, blaming yourselves, each other; talking in clusters outside my room; thinking that I can’t hear what you are saying.

Maths was never my strong point. Everyone knows that. I should have done what you do, Mum; add a bit extra in every recipe you make, you know, one for the pot. But that’s not exact. Thats not my way. I wanted to be perfect and followed things to the letter; except, I messed up the dose and I mixed my methods. Thought that if I didn’t achieve my purpose one way, another would top me off.

Brett, you’ll blame yourself now, even though I am asking you not to. I’m sorry you were the one to find me. Alive. I should have been stone cold. But damn my organic juicing lifestyle. My body fought to purge itself of the toxins I’d swallowed. All that yoga I’d done must have somehow slowed my breathing, tempered my heart rate. I’d laugh if I could. Healthy living didn’t kill me. It put me on hold until the medicos yanked me back into the existence I had fought to leave. Planned with precision. 

As the watery dawn leaked in through the curtains this morning, I heard a bird welcome the new day. I can’t remember the last time I heard a bird. I was so desperate to die yesterday. I've heard nothing but the thumping of my heart in my ears. I was so determined to die, I heard nothing else. Today as I woke to the sounds of air compressions and beeps, I cried knowing I’d failed.

It was nothing to that cold dread that scraped down my innards as the doctor stood beside the bed and put his hand on Mum’s shoulder, telling her that there was little more they could do. With my windpipe and lungs scarred from the exhaust fumes I’d funnelled into my little cars cabin, there’s no way I can breathe again on my own. I heard him. You don’t need to deny it.

I also know they had to take out my stomach in surgery. Despite my beetroot juices, all that acid ate right through the lining.  Even if I survive, the risk of infection and day to day life will be unbearable as I carry a bag around with me; like some old crone.

I can hear the heart monitor. Its slow steady beep is perhaps the only thing I can anchor to at the moment.

I see you with your eyes prickling with tears. Blaming yourselves and not daring to touch my flaccid hand.

Voiceless, all I can do is stare at you, wishing my words could appear on paper beside me. 

I wanted to die yesterday, but I want to live today. 


Don’t give up on me.

Suzie.

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Words: 670

This was also submitted to Friday Flash

6 comments:

Helen said...

This is so sad, it's filled with desperation, one moment to die the next to live, very visual writing that took the reader into the mind of your main character.

Storm Dweller said...

This is beautifully and painfully written. Wonderful job.

Carolyn Wagner-Writer said...

Well done. So heart felt. :D

gailaldwin said...

It's a dreadful thought to be voiceless and hanging in the balance - evocative writing.

John Pender said...

Very well done.

I've always wondered. Why do people say "maths"?

Annie Evett said...

Hey John - thanks!! to answer your question - for the same reason people say Mom''.... it may be right for one group of people - because its just what they have said for ever and ever.. but for another group its just all wrong..