Saving Grace (editing)

51: Grace ~ Alright

Chapter Fifty-One

Silence… Numbness… Dullness… Blindness… Senselessness...

I am no one, I do not exist.

I’m merely drifting, floating in the vastness of my own demons, sorrows and monsters, for I am the real monster.

I’m floating; suspended in a thick, vile substance that wraps around my limbs like snakes encircling and ready to attack.

It is constricting, almost crushing and I anticipate the final blow, its fingers creeping up my neck, ready to choke me once and for all.

I know that the real Grace would try to resist and force her way out, looking for escape…

But, she’s gone; dead, disappeared, vanished. She is no longer alive. And she never should’ve been in the first place.

It’s pointless.

I don’t even care anymore.

I don’t even want to live.

I don’t know how I can still even feel.

I should just feel numb.

Pain will overwhelm me and I welcome it like an old friend.

“… Gr…a…c…”

A distant voice reaches my ears, just the slightest bit audible.

 “…Gra…ce…”

It sounds crackly, like an old record player seeking for clarity.

“…Grace…”

My senses jolt awake at the sudden recognition.

It’s him. It has to be. Who else would it be?

“Grace…”

My heart is racing and my feet suddenly land roughly on the surface. I steady my balance and I push through the filthy smog, searching frantically for where the voice is coming from. My vision is blocked from the deep fog that restricts my sight and it’s almost pointless to even try and peer through it.

I hear it again.

“Grace…”

I only have one thing on my mind now as my throat tightens and my chest pounds furiously.

Elliot, Elliot, Elliot. Oh Elliot.

I have so many things to tell him; to tell him I’m sorry, to tell him I need him, to tell him I never wanted to hurt him.

I am trembling at the sudden wave of emotions overcoming me and I can hold no control over them.

But as time passes and my feet and mind go restless, my hope fades again until it is barely there anymore, ready to be extinguished like a weak flame by the swift pinch of fingers.

It couldn’t have been him… he’s not here… no… it’s just my twisted imagination again…

“…Grace…”

This is sick… It has to stop… It’s killing me inside… Stop imagining things… Please just stop.

I scream out in frustration and I instantly regret it as the toxic pollution enters down my throat, searing inside. I gag as a string of coughs follow, leaving me to drop to my knees in my struggle.

I’m being pulled in again and the force of the fog becomes stronger, tightening its grip on me again.

I can’t anymore. It’s no use. There’s no escape. I can’t make it.