Oblivion

• Georgia Winch, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2015

As he lay in his empty bathtub he stared into a black hole. The open doorway leading into his bedroom exposed only darkness. Darkness had enveloped his room and he felt as if it had taken over his soul. Many times he had imagined a creature filled with rage and in search of oblivion crawling through that doorway. Daydreams like these are what fueled his nightmares.
The air was still and not a sound could be heard. He liked the silence; it accompanied the misery and loneliness in his heart. With a state like his, depression was inevitable. The only light in his life was the soft ray of sunshine that was distorted due to the frosted glass of his window. He breathed in slowly then exhaled and closed his eyes. His skin began to itch and acting on impulse, he scratched.
It wasn’t uncommon for him to be forgotten in his room. He had always thought of himself as the draft child. The first draft. Two brothers followed him, the middle brother being the second draft and the youngest being the final copy. His parents sometimes made jokes about him being the first draft child. He hated it. He was born to be the leader, the one to guide his brothers in the right direction. He didn’t like having that weight on his shoulders. He wanted to end the pressure.
He sighed heavily and swallowed thickly, coating his dry throat. It was decided then and there that he would end it. He slowly lifted his head and his gaze stuck on an orange bottle of pills sitting peacefully on the countertop on the opposite side of the room. The suffering adolescent hauled himself out of the pristine, white tub and grabbed the bottle of anti-depressants. He climbed in; dirt covering the white, then opened the window. He looked up at the fading sun and took a deep breath of fresh air. As he once again got comfy in the bathtub, light shone on his face.
The cap was easy to remove and discard. The sound of the plastic hitting the floor disrupted his silence but that was his doing. These pills helped. They made him feel less like he was an ant in a hornet’s nest. He popped one in his mouth. Then another. Then another. The cogs in his brain didn’t start turning until it was too late. He could feel it. His eyes getting heavy and his chest tightening. He didn’t cry. He wasn’t sad. He was just going to sleep, he told himself. It was getting harder to breathe and now the darkness was crawling its way up his body. He took one last deep breath and looked up at his ray of sunshine. In the end it he wasn’t afraid of oblivion…he was oblivion.