Darkness Falls - 1

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Chapter One

Darkness Falls

You were given this life because you are strong enough to live it.

These are the words on a post it note on my monitor. My hand stretches and touches the words. As if by the mere act of touching those words, I will be given strength. As if just touching those words can change this moment. As if touching those words can prevent me from collapsing on the floor and that is what is happening…

Just now

Right now…

I fell on my knees…

My head bangs against the glass desk

Did it bang?

I don’t feel it…

Yet, it makes me fall backwards on the floor. I check myself for breathing. Slowly I raise my right hand and put it on the left side of my upper chest. Right on top of my left breast. I am breathing. My chest is heaving and I have pain but I am alive. I can feel it going up and down.

I close my eyes and try harder to fight the pain to breathe.

Think about breathing. It should not be that hard. You push the air out and you suck the air in. For some reason, this simple act, feels so hard right now.

The chest is painful. That pain is back. This horrible, nagging slow pain that has been crawling up my body, my brain is back and it is stronger than ever..

I roll and try to concentrate on what to do. Obviously my brain is not exactly in the functioning mode. My tears are rolling all over. They are salty and actually I am enjoying their taste. Salty, it makes me remember our vacation, Caribbean, the breeze, the beauty, all the fun we had right before this pain began…

Right before, Billy the bully decided to clutch his nasty fingers tighter on my throat.

Time is of essence, I am not sure how long I can survive without breathing and breathing is hard. And in case you are wondering I am alone. I am alone at home. The phone is on the table and I am spread out on the floor like butter spread on a piece of toast. I wish I was as flexible as butter. I wish I could change that fast and go on any surface or even melt and not to have the face Billy the Bully and the whole situation again.

Ah, this is my mind wondering back to what has happened. I need you to listen to me, my mind. I am absolutely breathless and need some water or something to help me survive. How do we get help?

Unfortunately I don’t hear much of a response.

I can hear my voice echoing in my brain repeating the question over and over again and I hear no response.

The eyes close. Still, I feel the salty tears and that assures me that I am still alive. Yet, can I open my eyes again and see my little boy’s eyes? His big, brown eyes filled with curiosity and a lot other things including confusion in the morning. He looks at me and asks: “Mummy, why sad eyes again”? His innocent question kills me. I mean it kills me to see how I have become unable to hide my anger, sadness, and frustration. How my little boy is feeling and seeing the depth of sadness in my eyes despite all my laughs and tries to hide what I am going through…

The life of a working female in corporate America world or the lack there of, however you want to interpret it. In a male dominated world where the beer drinkers and those playing Golf rule. Where if you don’t understand American Football, you will be a foreigner for life no matter how and when you were naturalized. Where you always face the question: What is your origin?

I remember his eyes and try to open my eyes. I need to survive, I need to live, I want to see his eyes again and this pain cannot stop me. The darkness is too deep and too strong for my senses. I cannot fight yet. Am I losing the battle?

I hear something and I hear my name being called. May be a miracle happened…

Chapter One

Darkness Falls

You were given this life because you are strong enough to live it.

These are the words on a post it note on my monitor. My hand stretches and touches the words. As if by the mere act of touching those words, I will be given strength. As if just touching those words can change this moment. As if touching those words can prevent me from collapsing on the floor and that is what is happening…

Just now

Right now…

I fell on my knees…

My head bangs against the glass desk

Did it bang?

I don’t feel it…

Yet, it makes me fall backwards on the floor. I check myself for breathing. Slowly I raise my right hand and put it on the left side of my upper chest. Right on top of my left breast. I am breathing. My chest is heaving and I have pain but I am alive. I can feel it going up and down.

I close my eyes and try harder to fight the pain to breathe.

Think about breathing. It should not be that hard. You push the air out and you suck the air in. For some reason, this simple act, feels so hard right now.

The chest is painful. That pain is back. This horrible, nagging slow pain that has been crawling up my body, my brain is back and it is stronger than ever..

I roll and try to concentrate on what to do. Obviously my brain is not exactly in the functioning mode. My tears are rolling all over. They are salty and actually I am enjoying their taste. Salty, it makes me remember our vacation, Carribean, the breeze, the beauty, all the fun we had right before this pain began…

Right before, Billy the bully decided to clutch his nasty fingers tighter on my throat.

Time is of essence, I am not sure how long I can survive without breathing and breathing is hard. And in case you are wondering I am alone. I am alone at home. The phone is on the table and I am spread out on the floor like butter spread on a piece of toast. I wish I was as flexible as butter. I wish I could change that fast and go on any surface or even melt and not to have the face Billy the Bully and the whole situation again.

Ah, this is my mind wondering back to what has happened. I need you to listen to me, my mind. I am absolutely breathless and need some water or something to help me survive. How do we get help?

Unfortunately I don’t hear much of a response.

I can hear my voice echoing in my brain repeating the question over and over again and I hear no response.

The eyes close. Still, I feel the salty tears and that assures me that I am still alive. Yet, can I open my eyes again and see my little boy’s eyes? His big, brown eyes filled with curiosity and a lot other things including confusion in the morning. He looks at me and asks: “Mummy, why sad eyes again”? His innocent question kills me. I mean it kills me to see how I have become unable to hide my anger, sadness, and frustration. How my little boy is feeling and seeing the depth of sadness in my eyes despite all my laughs and tries to hide what I am going through…

The life of a working female in corporate America world or the lack there of, however you want to interpret it. In a male dominated world where the beer drinkers and those playing Golf rule. Where if you don’t understand American Football, you will be a foreigner for life no matter how and when you were naturalized. Where you always face the question: What is your origin?

I remember his eyes, his big innocent eyes with that ray of scare and surprise in them. It gives me strength to try to open my eyes. I need to survive, I need to live, I want to see his eyes again and this pain cannot stop me. The darkness is too deep and too strong for my senses. I cannot fight yet. Am I losing the battle?

I hear something and I hear my name being called. May be a miracle happened…

Rescue...