I’m Sorry

I’m at the end of my rope. The darkness almost has swallowed me whole. I struggle to cling to the end, but I know it’s useless. I hadn’t known I was drowning before I felt the waters rise over my head.

I could blame it on anyone. My friends for persuading me to do it. My family for encouraging it. But in the end, I know that the fault is mine. The decision was mine, and I failed to choose the right path. And now I’m too far into the darkness to tell if I’m alive anymore.

Is this death? I wonder. Is this suffocating, gut-wrenching feeling it? I close my eyes, but it doesn’t really matter. I can’t hold on any longer. My fingers are red and raw and I feel them clinging onto—nothing.

I’m falling . . . falling . . . falling into more blackness. I brace myself for the end, but I’m too exhausted to do so. I just let myself go limp.

I’m useless. I’m nothing. The words pound through my head.

You are mine. Other words slide into focus, and I realize that I’m not falling anymore. Someone has caught hold of my hand.

You are mine. I feel the person pulling me up again. As they draw me closer, a dazzling light blinds me, and a sense of warmth envelops me. I can breathe again.

You are mine. I feel sticky with blood and I almost shriek with fear, but I realize that the blood isn’t mine.

I love you. That voice again, dragging me farther along into the light. I look down at my body and see that the blood is gone, leaving me clean. Gone are the dark stains left from my bad decisions. Gone is the guilt and the shame.

Thank you! I am crying, the tears streaming down my cheeks.

I wake up, blinking the sleep from my eyes. I glance at the photo nearby. It’s a picture of my friend. I feel the tears. The friend I betrayed and left. I hold my phone, daring myself to do it. So I do.

I’m sorry.