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The Price of Silence

December 29, 2009
The sun glints off the tip of my scalpel as I prepare to make an incision.  I hesitate – is this really necessary?  A quick nod, and seconds later the sharp blade pierces the skin above my heart. 
I remove the slippery, pulsating organ and place it gently on a platter made of fine, polished silver.

“We need to talk,” I whisper, poking an aorta with my gloved finger.

My heart says nothing, just continues its rhythmic beating as if it were still encased in my chest.

I take a deep breath and begin the meticulous dissection of my warm heart.  They must be in there, somewhere.  The place that pounds when I see billows of smoke in the distance, even if it’s only visible when my eyes are closed.  The spot that squeezes when I see a pregnant woman, and I don’t even understand why.   The general area that leaps into my throat when I think my dark thoughts in the middle of a sunny day.  They must be silenced, for they won’t listen to reason.

My search is in vain.  All that sits upon the tray is bloody, cut up meat where a perfectly performing heart once was.  Disappointed, I place the mess back into the gaping hole in my rib cage, and close it with my needle and thread.

“I was afraid this might happen, ” I say quietly, and make my way to the bathroom.  I wash the scalpel, wipe it dry. 

My eyes travel upward with the arc of my hand.  A single drop of blood splashes on the counter top as I make the first of many cuts that will lead me to my brain.  It must be silenced, for it won’t listen to reason.

Originally Posted at The Sweet Life 9/4/2008 7:50 pm

Comments:

  • 9/4/2008 9:16 PM jesse wrote:
    yeah now you’re speaking my language. im glad im not the only one with a darkside. but we must do our very best, every day, to keep those thoughts and feelings in check cause if the beast does get loose…..it’s hard to put back in the cage.
  • 9/5/2008 1:21 AM sheasy wrote:
    I like this. Excellent.
     
  • 9/5/2008 3:19 AM Black Hockey Jesus wrote:
    Yeah that’s nice. I love it when a narrator is doing wild stuff or wild stuff is happening and the writing is all nonchalant. That last line was a kicker too. That’s how you wanna go out.
     
  • 9/5/2008 12:13 PM anymommy wrote:
    If you find where those spots are, will you let me know so I just get straight to them. This was haunting and scary and true. I hope you’ve gotten past the worst now.I went back and read about your harrowing experience after your birth last year. Trauma like that isn’t banished easily. Keep writing about it!
  • 9/5/2008 2:25 PM Christina wrote:
    Beautiful! What a strong voice.
     
  • 9/6/2008 7:01 AM Mama Ginger Tree wrote:
    The more I learn about you, the more I am intrigued. Excellent writing.This is what I love about reading blogs. There is so much more to people than what you may see in their flicker photo stream.
  • 9/7/2008 4:26 PM Susan wrote:
    I get it. I really do. 
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