Am I sorry ?

It was a dark evening. Grey clouds hovered all around. The atmosphere was getting so grim that even the clouds were weeping. Sunlight was trying to console them but in vain. I was in my room going through all the old photos. My memories were killing me. They were adding to the sadness of the day. My heart was paining even at the thought of it. But I had had enough. How long could I live with this burden. How long could I keep it that way. The effects were showing on my face. My sadness and stress was showing on my face. There was nothing I could do. The whole room started feeling like an asylum. I didn’t want it this way. Something had to be done. A one shot solution. I was fed up. The thoughts of using a sharp blade were haunting my mind for quite some time. A few cuts in the right places and it would all be over. Should I do it or should I not, was questioning my shrinking mind. What would my friends think if I took such a step? Would my family take this shock? I didn’t know what to do. Browsing through more photos from the past couple of years worsened the things. I had to do it now. I had been through enough dark memories. I had to take this step. No matter who thinks what, I had to go ahead. Enough thought and said.

My shaky feet walked me to the bathroom. I picked up that blade. A sharp new blade. It was going to my only weapon to take this step. I wanted to finish it all with the least possible pain. I knew this would be the last time I would feel such pain, after that, all would be over. I made the first cut. It was a little painful. A cold shiver ran down my spine that was bending over the wash basin. A cut more and it didn’t pain the same way anymore. A couple of cuts more and there was no pain left in me. I was just creeping towards the end result. With all the cuts, I could see it slowly flowing away. Falling drop by drop on the basin floor. Its dark color was contrasting against that of my skin. I knew a final set of cuts would finish of things. As was doing this, I looked towards the mirror. All my old memories were slowly fading away. A change could be seen in me. The blade had helped me take the brave step. It was a new beginning. The way people would look at me had changed. The blade had certainly made a difference. It did its job to perfection. I had finally and cleanly, shaven off my moustache and frenchie.