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» [OS] Because I Could Not Stop for Death
PHINEAS BENNETT
 Posted: Jun 30 2014, 01:31 PM
Quote
WRAITH
Twenty-Six
Police Officer
Phineas is Offline


The dark. The damp. The pressure on his chest. The sound of rain pounding against metal, the feel of it splashing against his face. Phineas could feel his heart slowing. He knew that the heaviness in his chest was a punctured lung, that the pain should have been worse, would have been worse if he weren't already slipping away. With every blink holding longer than those before, any one of these blurry glimpses of cracked glass and mud could be the last thing he ever saw.

He was trapped.

Dying.

Unable to move, unable to get help...Phineas Bennett's life would end in a ditch. Not in a hale of gunfire, not saving the life of an innocent, not doing his duty or serving the greater good. No. Nothing so valiant or bold. Alone and unknown in a rainstorm, breathing his final breath and closing his eyes without a soul to witness it. The man's heartbeat stuttered and failed as his body slumped forward, dead ...and on his birthday no less.

Phin gasped, his eyes snapping open and his body shooting to attention as he flung himself into wakefulness. A sharp crack announced the connection of his head with the bookshelf beside his bed as uncoordinated movements tried to bring him somewhere, anywhere away from the accident. It hurt, but at the same time, it didn't. Nothing did any more, not in the same way that it used to. There was a disconnect, as if there was a thin fog between he and every touch, like he were playing telephone with his own body.

And yet, despite feeling so out sync with himself, everything else in the world felt hyper-real as the officer stumbled to the bathroom. Shaking hands fumbled with the light switch as Phineas met his own gaze in the mirror. He was there, haggard and thin, paler than he should be...but alive. He was alive. He couldn't have died that night...but he had. He remembered it now, he could remember letting go. He could remember his last breath, the roaring in his ears, the way the world just seemed to fade away.

The light above him flickered two times before bursting.

Phin hunkered down away from the shattering glass as his heart began to race. He had died. He had fucking died, but here he was, walking and talking and having nightmares about the day he should have ceased to exist. Shit like that wasn't real was it? People didn't just get up and walk around after dying...they didn't climb out of horrible car-wrecks and stumble into bed only to wake up completely fine. But he had. Those injuries had healed to soon, every injury since had healed to soon.

The nearest TV turned on, blaring loudly enough to hurt the man's now seemingly more sensitive ears. His hands flew to the sides of his head, trying to block out the sound even as the street light outside the bathroom window sparked itself into darkness. Even in the pitch-black room, Phineas could see far more than he should have been able to...the details, the subtleties that were usually blotted out in the night stood out. What was happening to him? Was he going insane? Was this some sort of bizarre fever dream or coma hallucination? Was he still in the car?

The room grew colder and colder with each moment; something told him he had to calm down—that he was causing all this, somehow—but it couldn't be real. None of it could be real. “What happened to me?” He whispered, glassy eyes staring into his own reflection as he finally let his hands drop. The television was still too loud, everything was still too sharp...but standing here wasn't going to get him answers. In five minutes flat, Phin was dressed and heading out the door. To where, he didn't know...but anywhere was better than staying here, remembering his own death.




This post has been edited by SHANTEL [QUEEN]: May 12 2015, 10:56 PM

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Because I could not stop for death,

he kindly stopped for me.

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