Shadow of
Death
Megan Cooper  ©
Copyright 2011 by Megan Cooper
2011 General Nonfiction Winner
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Photo by Colin Davis on Unsplash
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It
seemed like one of those nights when everything was going to go
wrong. I had this feeling in the pit of my stomach. I could sense it.
I knew that the end was coming, it was sitting there, churning inside
of me. The hairs on my arms were prickling, goose bumps raced over my
skin. I could feel Death waiting in the shadows. I could see him
moving from tree to tree, watching. I just knew he was waiting for
the perfect opportunity to strike. I felt scared, weak and
defenseless. I knew there was no way I could defeat Death, not now,
not ever. He had come and he would destroy, shatter me into a
thousand pieces, all with the stroke of his bony, gnarled ancient
hand.
The
wind picked up and Damian sat next to me. He put his arm around my
shoulders and told me to cheer up. I looked up into his sweet face.
His eyes were so blue; they made my thoughts wash away. He had that
effect on me, even though I could never see him more than as a
friend. Perhaps, somewhere buried deep inside the trench of my heart
I loved him, but I don’t think I even knew…or
honestly
ever cared to know. Love wasn’t for me; I was broken and
would
never be fixed again. I had destroyed what existence I had on this
earth and didn’t really care to fix it. I was happy being at
the bottom, happy being what people called “scum.”
I
guess I felt I deserved this life, considering I’m the one
who
brought it on.
Damian
was babbling about something he had done to some girl. He
wasn’t
the most faithful guy in the world and well, he had his fair share of
one night stands. I was surprised he even mentioned it to me,
considering it meant nothing. But, from his tone of voice, this girl
meant something to him. He had fallen in love with her, but
couldn’t
figure out how to tell her. He kept mentioning some random details, I
think if I had been paying closer attention I would have figured out
a lot sooner the girl he was talking about was me…then
maybe,
and just maybe he would still be alive today. I was being selfish,
caught up in the aftermath of my own shit and was ignoring my best
friend. Yeah, I was all kinds of screwed up.
Once
he finished talking and realized I wasn’t listening he
punched
me in the shoulder jarring me from my self-pity and then pulled out
his stash. He looked up at me and didn’t even have to ask. Of
course I was on board for this; I had been waiting for him to pull it
out all night. He pulled out his small, square mirror and put it on
his knee. He handed me a dollar bill and told me to roll it up. I
proceeded to follow his directions as he poured the white, powdery
substance from the baggie. He pulled out his razor blade and chopped
up the lines a bit more, separating them into six, perfect lines of
freedom. He held the mirror out to me and I took the first hit. I
felt the powder rush up my nose and then in an instant, the world
changed color. I felt more alive, vibrant and ready for the night. I
wasn’t as depressed as I had been and I was able to shut off
my
brain for a moment.
Damian
took his line and then passed it back to me. I took another one and
the feeling intensified tenfold. I was flying and nothing could touch
me. I was unstoppable. Invincible. Alive. I looked to Damian as he
took his next line, his face was a bit pale, and he was sweating more
than normal. I looked at him, wondering what else he had taken that
night. He looked queasy, almost like he was losing it, but coke never
did that to him. He was never one to falter on it. He was a pro, a
champ, like me. He could handle his shit. I began to worry as he
passed me the mirror once again. I hesitated a minute, thinking that
maybe it was laced with something else. He looked at me and smiled
and a flash of the cool, collected Damian came back. I shrugged my
shoulders and took my last line. I passed it back to him and he took
his. Almost instantly, my life was forever changed.
His
hands began shaking and the mirror fell from his grip. He had tears
streaming from his eyes, blood from his nose. He kept trying to tell
me something, something that sounded like “I can’t
breathe,” but I wasn’t sure. I began to panic,
unsure of
how to react or what to do. I screamed for help, but no one seemed to
be listening…no one seemed to care. Damian slumped over onto
me and his body was like ice, yet he was sweating profusely. He was
grabbing at his throat, gasping for air, his eyes frantically calling
for help while he couldn’t. I screamed once again and this
time
a passerby heard me and I told them to call 911. The passerby pulled
out her cell phone and quickly dialed, screaming into the phone that
“he was dying.”
“He
was dying.” Those three words caused my world to come to a
crashing halt. Everything stopped for a moment. I could hear the
river trickling by, the crickets chirping and the wind in the trees.
I heard Death in the trees once again, crunching through the leaves
as he got closer and closer to me. I grabbed onto Damian, trying to
pull him away, trying to save him from the shadows. He grabbed my
hand weakly and I looked him in the eyes. They were no longer the
deep blue, but a pale, grayish color. He was no longer frantically
gasping for breath. I saw his chest rise and fall slowly, he looked
me in the eyes and then everything became silent. I could no longer
hear his raspy breaths. His chest no longer moved. My Damian, my best
friend, had succumbed to the shadows.
Everything
that happened next was a blur, even though that is cliché to
say. I had no idea where they took him, when they took him, or who
was talking to me. I sat there, not saying a word, trying to process
what had just happened. Everything was so confusing, so messed up and
I was in shock. Had I really just witnessed his death? Did Damian
really die in my arms? Did things like this happen in real life? I
wasn’t a stranger to death, but yet, I couldn’t
process
what had just happened. Here we were, doing what we always do and
then, this. This chaos. This mess.
Minutes
turned to hours turned to days. I sank into a depression and no one
could pull me out. I was still trying to make sense of the situation.
Was I to blame? I didn’t speak, I didn’t eat, and I
was a
ghost in the hall ways. People walked on eggshells around me, but I
still heard their whispers. I knew they blamed me. Some even said he
got what he deserved. Was it true? Did karma really exist? Then why,
why didn’t Death take me? I slowly walked home from school
one
night, finally making a decision. I couldn’t live without
Damian, so how could he live without me? I needed to get to him. I
needed closure. I needed him.
I
closed myself in my bathroom, turned on my cd player and let the
water in the bath run cold. I pulled out a knife from my pocket and
put it on the side of the bath tub. I slowly undressed, taking note
to my thin frame, my ghostly white skin and the dark circles under my
eyes. I noticed the marks lining my arms like freckles; I noticed my
bluish veins protruding from my arms. I saw the scars from other
attempts, and I noticed the tears that had never stopped falling. I
slowly lowered myself into the bath tub and felt the cold water
engulf me. I lifted the knife from the side and then took a deep
breath and dragged it across each wrist. Crimson rivers instantly
flowed from my body, looking out of place, almost beautiful against
the paleness of my skin. I let the water continue to engulf me as I
slid further down. The water turning from clear, to rose, to red.
Eventually
the pain stopped, my mind stopped, I could no longer feel, no longer
cared what happened. Finally, I was able to breathe without the
sharp, shooting pains it caused me. I slowly let the world fade away,
as the water fully engulfed my head. Soon, I was sleeping the most
wonderful sleep I had in weeks. I was lifted, weightless, happy. Then
everything went silent, everything went dark, everything went still.
But…my
slumber was not to last. I was violently jarred back to reality by
screams, tears, and paramedics pulling me out. My body was tossed
around, jolted, as reality began to become clear. I remember being
disappointed, broken hearted and angry. Soon they were covering me
with sheets, covering my arms, giving me oxygen and telling me to
come back. I could see blurred faces, faces of people who
what…cared?
Since when?…they let it get this far…they could
see it
coming for weeks…why now? Why now…when I finally
found
my peace? I was on my way to finding Damian, to finding my sanctuary,
but they brought me back to this world where I didn’t fit and
didn’t understand. Little did I know that this was the
beginning of the hardest journey of my life…the journey to
the
living.
My name is Megan Cooper and I'm
an English teacher at New London Community School District in New
London, Iowa. I majored in English in college and have always had a
passion for writing. I have had many ups and downs throughout my life
and many experiences that I can write about. I have witnessed love,
birth, death and heart ache in my twenty-six years on this earth. I
understand that with life, comes a path and we choose our own way.
More about me. I have a daugther
who is two years old, her name is Bristol and I have a son on the way.
I am married and love my teaching career. My past demons still haunt me
somewhat today and they are always with me. I have lost many friends
throughout the years to various events, but I feel that everything has
made me who I am now. I use my experiences to help my students
understand that there is more to life than the path I followed, but I
encourage them that whatever experiences they have to embrace them and
use them to become who they want to be. I hope to someday become a
published writer, but that would mean finding time to finish the book I
have started. My life doesn't call for that at the moment, but I have
faith that I will finish it someday.
Contact
Megan
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