Without Time

(Please not that this story does not encourage suicide but is about an acceptance of reality. If you are struggling with suicide, please contact the National Suicide Prevention Hotline in the United States Call 1-800-273-8255 or go to the website https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org)



Without Time



He started walking down the path alone. It was as if he were stuck in time. His breath hung suspended before him each time he exhaled. He breathed, though there was no air. One of his eyes was black and the other red. He ran his hand along the smooth, black stone walls as he walked through a faintly lit hallway. A random candle dotted the left wall every few feet. The flame was barely bright enough to even cast a shadow. The orange glow could not reach the ground.

The man stopped and reached for the candle closest to him. His long, thin fingers went through the wax. There was no way to take the light with him. It was as if the candle was a mirage.

He started walking again. His hair appeared clear with every pass of a candle. There was no hint of an opening before him or behind him.

The floor felt smooth and cold against his bare feet. He knew not if a ceiling hung right above his head or miles up. It could even be a cloudy, starless night above a labyrinth. The walls, however, turned never right, nor left.

He knew not when he began to walk nor if he could ever stop. There was no clock to chime and no sun to shine. If such a thing as time existed, it eluded him.

It would have left him long ago.

He never felt weary or had an ache. If he hunched forward, it was only because of the weight on his mind. An invisible weight occasionally placed upon his shoulders.

A darkness soon covered his eyes. He knelt down as the darkness seeped in.

The candles had disappeared before him, even though the lights remained behind him. He wished to go back, but the path was gone. It was as if a glass wall had followed him, preventing him from returning from whence he came. He could neither touch this barrier, nor break it.

Kneeling was the only thing he could think to do. He knew not if there was even a path before him. He reached to the left and right to find out if the walls still existed. They were still there, looming over him.

He began to pound on either side, looking for a way out. He found nothing.

He could go on, but he found it of no use. He sat on the floor.

He sat on the floor.

He sat on the floor.

He sat.

He could sit no longer. He stood up and placed one foot in front of the other. He moved slowly at first and then slightly faster. He began to jog. Then, unable to hold himself back, he broke into a full run.

Not a drop of sweat touched his brow. He never ran out of breath. He just ran on.

What wall would meet him? Would the ground or the sky fall?

With no light, he ran on.

Suddenly, an echo met his ears. A sweet sound rang out between those walls. It did not come from the man. He had never even heard his heartbeat. The sound came from no direction but enveloped him. Only the vibration in the floor told him from whence the sound came.

He ran on.

The sound got louder and the vibration got stronger, but the man could not reach it.

Without warning, the man’s body met rock. His body could no longer move forward. He was pushed backwards to the ground by the sudden stop. He got to his hands and knees and crawled forward. He sat before the wall he could not see. He placed his hands on the wall.

He could feel the vibration speaking to him. He placed his ear against this new wall so that he could hear the muffled words. His ear met cold metal. It felt like a keyhole that had been covered. A voice was calling to him through that little metal square.

He scratched frantically at the piece. He desperately wanted to remove it so that he could see the other side, but it would not budge. It would not move.

He continued to claw at it until he felt a liquid on his fingers. He stopped briefly to feel the substance. It was warm.

He would not stop. He could not stop, but the metal eventually became wet and slippery. His fingers could no longer grasp the piece.

They simply slid over it.

There was no hope.

He sat back and let the liquid drip from his fingers.

Despair set in.

He stared off into the darkness, knowing that there was something there and with a subtle sigh, he laid back against the floor. The warm substance continued to bleed through the wall. It slowly flowed from the metal.

The liquid began to form a puddle around him, but he was not scared. The man did not move, but lay still. The liquid began to rise, slowly covering his hands. It rose.

The world around him was still black. There was nothing that his eyes could see. There was no light to illuminate the world around him.

Unexpectedly, the man’s body was being lifted up. It was floating.

His body inched upward. The man remained calm. There was yet nothing to see.

He drifted upwards through the narrow space. Would there be another barrier?

Slowly, the man’s pupils began to dilate. A light had entered the world. It was dim at first, but it grew steadily brighter.

He could see the ocean that lifted him. There was nothing else to see.

The ocean’s color faded. There was only the bright white light.

The world around him dissolved into this light. He was free and there was peace at last.