In the center of a desolate street a single person was in sight, sounds of gunshots and screams of pain could be heard throughout the area, but no one came to their aid. The situation mattered to no one, they were used to it and simply ignored it.
At the place where his deathbed would be, a young man lay bleeding to death on the ground with six holes in his chest. So much blood gushed from the holes that it formed a puddle beneath him. Only one thing was clear, that night he was going to die.
Time became eternal for the young man, seconds become minutes and minutes become hours, nothing makes sense in his mind.
"This is how I'm going to die? Pathetic," said a trembling voice before spitting blood, overcome by pain.
"I set few things and accomplished nothing, I wanted to accomplish at least one."
"I'm sorry, little sister. I wanted to give you a better life, but I failed in the attempt," the young man added.
With each passing second the voice was losing its strength and becoming softer and softer.
Tears of regret fall from her eyes that are struggling to stay open. There is no time left for any emotion. Death is coming and nothing will stop it, but so merciful was she to the young man that she gave him time for a few last words.
"I'm sorry, Mary."
And from one instant to the next, it was over. Every trace of life that was in his body disappeared.
What seemed eternal and endless to the young man was but five minutes, that was the time it took for death to do its work.
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An void flooded the place where I was. I don't know where I am, I don't see my body, it's as if only my mind exists in this space. I can't speak, I can't see, I can't feel, I can't move, I'm just me here.
What is this place? How long have I been here? How long will I be here? Can I get out? Is this death? Is this the end and will I be here forever? Questions, unanswered questions sail in this darkness, I'm a castaway in a sea of doubt.
It is not pleasant to be here. The atmosphere seems to be overloaded with despair, fear, anxiety, anger, rage, hopelessness and agony. With each passing moment these emotions take control of me.
I'm the only one around here. I'm going to go crazy if I spend too much time in this place.
The minutes pass and the memories begin to come to light, I don't pay attention to them and keep calm. It is impossible. Focus on the good and not the bad, remember: your childhood with your sister, your first love, your first and last fight, your gang mates, happy memories. Memories that I cherished, but thanks to where I was, happiness was not an option. Good things don't work and bad things take place, I have a feeling nothing I try will work. Horrible memories, locked deep inside my mind, come to the surface: memories of my father and his fists, my mother and her indifference, my classmates and their sharp tongues and my revenge against them, when I took the leadership of the gang and reached the top, but destroyed it all in a short time. Every decision I made brings me here.
One, two, three, four, five, six...
Everything here tends toward negativity. Turning to numbers was the best thing I could think of. Numbers became my best friend, keeping my mind busy by counting was better than going back to what came before, falling into that pit of bad memories. I was next to my worst enemy and I couldn't let him win, or rather, I didn't want to let him win. I still have hope and I don't even know why.
518,400 seconds was the time it took for one of my questions to finally get an answer.
And that question was: Can I go out?
And the answer was: yes.
"So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them." (Genesis 1:27).