End Of The Line?

Half walking, half trampling through the steps that I was taking, pacing forwards as if nothing could stop me, but me. I was wearied, my energy was sucked out clean by lethargy itself. Profuse sweat stuck on me, covering my body with salt paste. My vision was partially cloaked in darkness where my internal compass kept prompting me to move forward albeit the path ahead was filled with more darkness.

“Keep… going…” I uttered under my breath, as a consolation to myself. A twinge of searing pain was promulgated from my calves, sending my nerves into a haywire situation. Panting breathlessly, I pulled myself together as soon as possible, kicking one step by another into the front, not wanting to fall as getting back up would take time.

The muscle pain was still lingering in the midst of time itself, I dragged myself to the front. What are you running for? The inner voice of mine asked, I kept it back down, but it became relentless, Why are you running? Just stop if you’re tired, nobody’s going to blame you. The condescending yet soothing voice kept on tempting me to pull my brakes but to no avail.

Clenching my fists, gnawing my teeth, I had to force myself to keep moving. My breath was running short, I was dying for a repose. My intuition could not rest, my mind was racing against time, I was told that time was running up for me, but my body refused to comply. I simply ignored the pain, the agony and the signals that my body was emitting.

My senses twitched in an uncanny manner. A ferocious beast, invisible, taking up most of the atmosphere with its enormous presence of hostility. I was screwed, I knew it before I could move another single step. The beast stared right straight into my very soul, lacerating my already broken body with its deadening stare, I could not bear the weight of it and came crashing down to my knees.

No… I shouted internally, I cannot fall down like this! I waited for an adrenaline burst but nothing came forth, my heart was still beating, irregularly; my body was malfunctioning, pulsating; but I was not moving, at all. I was puzzled, realising that I could not move anymore because I was beaten up badly by myself.

The beast took no time to rest as it pounced unto me, dangling its head upon me, vulturing my half-dead body, waiting for the swoop. I wanted to push myself more, but I did not even have the remnants of energy to do so. I prayed, that was the only thing that I could muster.

Taking in the darkness one more time before I blacked out, This is the end… I thought.

After several days, I got up, afresh but still, the exhaustion was still sauntering in my system. Everything was lightened up like before. I took a calculated planning for my future run as I proceeded slowly to the front.

Craving for more? Down below:
what we talk about when we talk about love by Raymond Carver (Book Review)
waiting for peach blossoms to bloom.
the quality of Being
shattered, tattered
not how, but when. (February Goals)

Published by zeckrombryan

Hope. Joy. Feelings cloaked as words.

7 thoughts on “End Of The Line?

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