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propaganda.net : Skole & Jobb
Meet me halfwaySkriv ut Utskrift

Denne teksten handler om Sarah, som sliter psykisk.

Teksten er skrevet som en tentamensoppgave i 10. klasse.

Engelsk - FortellingForfatter:

“I can’t take it anymore. My mind keeps on fucking me up!” I fell to my knees and let my tears burst out, making me unable to see the walls surrounding me. “It keeps on serving me these changing, unstable, hurting, self-destructive thoughts. All the time…” I felt the pressure on me increase, becoming unbearable.

 

 I’m losing it. I can’t take it anymore.

 

It’s a well-known phrase. I’ve been thinking it for the last couple of months, maybe even for the last year. I don’t know. I lost track of time a while back. I don’t mind. Really. I don’t! Or maybe a bit…

 

It’s frustrating, OK? I don’t know where to go or what to do. Whatever I do, my mind keeps tearing me down. It corrodes me, melts me into nothing. It messes me up until I’m only a tiny black lump of sludge.

 

I’ve tried to keep my head above water, to keep on floating. Surviving. It’s hard when life pulls you down. It’s difficult when all the problems you’re served threatens to drown you.

 

“Sophie, don’t give up. I’m right here. I’ll stay right here beside you. Just open your eyes.” I don’t want to, but his begging voice makes it impossible to refuse. I open my eyes. Everything is blurry through my desperate tears. My apartment seems deformed. The tears continue to run down my cheeks, letting the fear and sadness I’ve locked inside out and into the comforting arms of my best friend. I crawl closer to him, hankering for his warm, safe embrace. Longing to feel him close. “It hurts so badly, Anthony. Please let me give up. I’m tired of being bullied, I’m tired of being the target of everyone’s hatred. The only one I can trust is you. Please let me join you.”

 

I’m helpless without you. Don’t you get it? I’ve been lost ever since… You…

 

Anthony glares at me. Shock and anger fills his eyes. “No! I won’t let you Sophie, you still have a lot left to live for!” I stood up, feeling the adrenaline pump through my veins. I walk determent towards my kitchen, pull the drawer out and grab a knife. Anthony is right behind me, trying to reach me. “Please Sophie! Don’t! You still…” I couldn’t move. I dig my eyes deep into him. “So did you.” His face twitches a bit. I’d struck a nerve. I suddenly feel guilty, but as fast as the feeling came, I pushed it away. I’m taking a deep breath, preparing me to open old wounds. “You left me, Anthony. I could have helped you, if you’d let me. I would have done everything I could to help you and you know it.” Tears are running down my cheeks, leaving wet marks.

 

You know you were the only person I could cry in front of. You were the only person who knew me. The only one who liked me for who I was… You knew this, and yet you left me.

 

Can’t you just let me get it over with? I can choose it now, or always suffer in some sanitarium. Please, let me join you.

 

He can see the eternal suffering in my eyes. “You know I can’t stop you, even if I want to. I’m not really here, you know. I’m just a product of your twisted mind. I’m dead. I’ve been dead for almost a year now...” I lift the knife to my wrist. “Stop it! Shut up!” The shadow in front of me laughs. “What? You can’t bare the truth? Anthony is dead long ago. I’m not him! I am you. Twisted and fucked up, in every possible way. Just as you are.” My knees fail me and gravity pulls me to the ground. The knife is still in my hand, held in place so hard, my knuckles turn white. I look up, at what Anthony.

 

It must be him. He’s not dead. He just… Left… He didn’t die. He wouldn’t commit suicide. Never. He had some problems, yes, but no way if he…

 

The shadow laughs again. “You know I’m telling the truth Sophie. Why would you tell yourself a lie? Anthony killed himself.”

 

I’m losing it! I can’t take it anymore!

 

I lift the knife towards my wrist. Knowing it’ll only be painful a few short seconds, maybe minutes. What do I care? I’ve been without track of time for the last couple of months, maybe even for the last year.

 

A straight, clean, deep cut ornaments my arm. My heart pumps for its dear life, not knowing it is killing me a bit more every time it does its job. My clothes are soaked in blood, and the floor is covered. It didn’t hurt as much as the news of your death, Anthony.

 

You were my best and only friend. I won’t let you leave this world alone. Will you meet me halfway?


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