No Reason
When we went, we flew away, consciousness clinging to the naked soul, guided by the feminine aspects of a greater psyche, who explained in voiceless whispers that the ordeals we faced were only impressions of past lives, and that we would remember no pain. They swore that I would not remember too much, but that I had to relive the experiences in order to be fully reborn and enter the second stages of determined existence, demonstrably undaunted by past mistakes. We traveled under cover of the night, across the roof-tops of villas and swimming pools, in what I understood to be a wealthily privileged area of France. I wondered which one was mine.
Before I had a chance to wonder long I was staggering around the deserted poolside of one of the larger villas, situated high on a hill overlooking the city, whose lights were twinkling innocently in a northerly direction from where I stood. It seemed to be an hour or so after midnight and despite my disoriented, semi-conscious state, I was aware that the detritus of a finished party was littering what should have been a pristine garden area.
I could not remember who I was or what I had been doing, or why I had decided to take all those pills in the first place; the bottle was lying by the side of the pool, half of its contents strewn wildly around. I thought it would be best to just get it over and done with and drown myself in the pool by flopping into it sideways – or maybe I just fell, nothing was clear anymore. I sank immediately. Sitting there at the bottom of the deep end, looking up at the deck chairs, tables and parasols through the soft ripples of my water, I had a moment of clarity and decided I didn’t want to die after all.
I struggled against the heaviness, fighting to get to the surface, which seemed to be miles away at that time. I seriously doubted my ability to get out, all the while losing consciousness, hoping I wasn’t drowning, wishing I hadn’t been so stupid, wondering why I’d thought everything was so bad. With the considerable remains of an effort of will I somehow dragged myself out of the pool and onto the ceramic tiling, but the relief of my escape was immediately cut in the throat by the sure knowledge that I was about to die of an overdose.
I cursed my stupidity again as I felt my inner organs give up the fight and expel the contents of my dying body onto the ground. This was desperate, my eyes started to roll into my head and my last sensations were of welling tears and a voice whispering softly in the vicinity of my upper brain: “Don’t worry, you won’t remember any of this – no pain”: Then nothing – really nothing.
So that was that one – not very nice, I’m sure everyone will agree. It is hard to say whether the next was better or worse – they were all the same in the very end.
