Above, Solo.

Beating the odds, I was standing below the spinning blades of the helicopter, “Jane. Ready?” the chopper talked through the earpieces, I posed a thumbs up, “Don’t lose crap, again.” he knew what he was talking about, serenading the ubiquitous trauma that was ravaging inside me ever since the dreadful experience.

I was the S.O.S. responder, more like a God-sent saviour, highly paid, professionally trained, and the only female in the team, but had zero failures in executing tasks, until the previous misfortune, losing my victim to a unprecedented landslide, almost lost mine too. Feeling blessed, only a few fractured bones and torn muscles were the consequence of my misjudgement.

That misfortune flung me straight into the depths of trauma, snowballing inside an ever growing cavity of darkness that wrapped me tightly, not letting me catch a breath when I was at heights, dreaming about the same horrid face of despondency of the victim that I failed to save, her face was blood caked, distorted nose, decapitated body parts, lacerated subcutaneously everywhere on her, like a war-torn victim, whom I failed to save. The burden was taken up by me, involuntarily. I, felt, my shoulders, my heart, my soul could not bear the weight anymore, I took my job too seriously. The risks were impending, the probability of saving was below marginal, yet I managed to pull out a clean sheet throughout my career until this point, I should accolade myself, but I led myself into dire straits, that was purely idiotic.

As I stared out of the aperture of the helicopter, I identified the position of the victim, locked him down, redirect my mind back on track without being hindered by the trauma. Relentlessly, I put up with it, but, I could not, I was being seized by it again, my knees turned into jelly, “Jane.” I heard, “JANE!” the chopper busted into my ears, “Be strong. If you do not go down now, that person there won’t even have a sliver of hope to breath in the next moment, you are going to kill him by standing here, trapped inside the perpetual prison that your mind has created to cage your valiant heart.” I was sinking deeper into my own creation, the murky mires of dissolved grit, could not catch much of myself.

“JANE!” the voice pounded me once more, “It is never too late to save… at least you tried.” something clicked inside me, I was furious.

“How dare you say I tried!? I put my fucking life on the line to save the soul that I never knew, every, single, fucking, time!” I shouted back into the earphones, and tore it out of me. I dived down with everything that I got, resolved, to save.


Craving for more? Down below:
Being Inauthentic
Am I Ready?
Last Minute
Unstoppable Together

Published by zeckrombryan

Hope. Joy. Feelings cloaked as words.

15 thoughts on “Above, Solo.

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