To Save A Life

There are some people in this world that always seek for balance in their lives, control over each aspect of themselves. However, for many, there are parts of ourselves that disagree with one another, no matter how you go about handling them, as troublesome as they are. Here we are witness to one small world in silent peril with no residents but three. The ever tired and crippled Body, the corrupted yet well-meaning Mind and the ever faithful Heart. Coming together as one has never been harder.


The dead of night is when she’s best to be contacted, though she lets the phone ring until just before the voicemail sounds. She just hates the sound of her own voice. His calls are frequent and filled with words she both does and doesn’t want to hear, but she doesn’t have much of a voice to stop him.

His foot taps as he waits for her to answer. He stands outside her house, out on the sidewalk beside her mailbox. Her window is dark and closed, as normal, but he knows she’s awake, still lying in bed. He can’t help but smile when she answers.

“What do you want?”

“Just stopping by.” He says, pulling a cigarette from the pack in his pocket. “If you get up to look, you can see me from your window.”

“I listen to you enough already.” She grumbles. “What are you really here for?”

“…She wants you to come visit.” He says, lighting his cigarette and taking a long, slow drag from it. “You both haven’t been talking lately.”

“I don’t want to see her.” She says, the rustling of sheets heard on the other end. “She and I don’t see eye to eye.”

“That’s because you’re so pessimistic.” He answers. “She always tries to give you something to believe in, since you can’t even believe in yourself.”

“Shut up, I’m just being realistic, and you’re no better than she is.” She gripes. “Giving me all these ideas that make my head spin. It’s always the makings of a migraine whenever you’re around.”

“Maybe if you and she got along a little better,” he chuckles, “then maybe I wouldn’t have to be so uncontrollable. There’s no limit to what I can say, you know.”

“I know that, idiot.” She says. “But even if we got along a little better, how would that change you? You’re impulsive, jump to conclusions all the time. You always spout nonsense and drive me to my breaking point. If she and I got along, what would that do to you?”

“Well for one thing you’d be able to pick out what you want to hear from me,” he answers, “instead of just taking it in all at once. She’ll give you some insight to what is truly valuable from my perspective, and you won’t end up so drained from our discussions. She’ll allow you to accept the truth without falling apart. She’ll give you peace of mind.”

“What is peace of mind when you’re the one who caused all this in the first place?”

The following silence is deafening, as he drops his cigarette to the pavement and puts it out underneath his shoe.

“I’ll be leaving now.” He says. “You know how to reach me.”

He hangs up the phone with a click, and turns away from the house, as ragged and worn as it is from years of wear and tear. She could be so lazy, never wanting to leave the house. However, as she lay nearly motionless in the darkness of her home, she believed she had good reason never to leave. The world out there, as small as it was, was dangerous. She always ended up hurt no matter what she chose to do, so why not just stay in the one place she knew she wouldn’t be hurt? She knew this was no way to live… but could she ever be changed?

As he walks down the only path, he passes his own home, pitch dark with no one inside it. He sighs and his breath could be seen in small puffs. She was getting cold. As he continues to walk, his phone rings. He answers it without checking who it was; he already knows.

“So what did she say?” the voice was hopeful, but he knew his answer would not go so well.

“She doesn’t want to see you.” He answers. “She doesn’t want to accept your help.”

“…Did she say that?”

“Around those lines, yes.” He says. “I’m on my way back now, do you want me to try again? Better make the choice quick, she’s getting really cold now.”

“Yeah, I feel it too.” A shiver could practically be felt through her voice. “And… I don’t know. There’s no other way we’ll pull through unless we agree and work together.”

“Maybe it’s for the better that we don’t.” he suggests. “It could be that all we need is a swift ending to stop our meaningless strife.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” the voice exclaims, ringing in his ear. “There’s so much potential, so much life in her; don’t say that death is the only answer! Or else you’re nothing but a murderer!”

“Hun, I think the word you’re thinking of is suicide.” He answers, lighting another cigarette. “I only make the suggestions, it’s not really my fault if she goes and breaks herself.”

“It is your fault.” Her voice drops as it trembles. Great, she’s already crying, just what they all need. “It’s all your fault…”

“It’s my fault as much as it is yours.” He says, not meaning to make things worse between them. He held such brutal honesty it was a surprise he wasn’t smacked on a regular basis. “There are times where she’s torn between you and I to the point she just breaks on her own accord. Accident-prone little brat.”

“…You know what, I’m just going to go talk to her myself, even if she ignores me!” her voice takes hold of him and he lets her speak without interruption. “I just want to let her know that there’s still a chance! Not all of this was for nothing, we’ve already come so far! She’s precious to all of us… it’s all a waste if we don’t do something.”

“Then you might want to come running, there’s not much time left.” He says, halting his pace and looking back down the path he came from. He could just barely see the mailbox of his house through the descending fog, and the staggering figure dragging her feet in that last ditch effort fueled by nothing but regret and adrenaline. “She’s already come to meet you halfway.”

He hangs up without another word, and backtracks to the sidewalk in front of his house. Beside his mailbox, the figure falls to the concrete and no longer moves. He stares down at her in her torn and weathered clothing, her face pale and tired-looking. One could only guess how many sleepless nights she’s trudged through, or what kind of hell she put herself through to end up in such a condition. He obviously knows, but he feels little to no sympathy, as it isn’t his job to feel sorry for this poor soul.

However, it is someone else’s job. And as footsteps could be heard approaching, he has the feeling that she’ll be doing her job just as she’s meant to.

Not a word is exchanged between them as she dives onto the concrete. She focuses solely on the Body already on the sidewalk, who is barely clinging to the life they all shared. Mind takes another drag of his cigarette as the two speak in near silent whispers. His job is finished for the moment. Heart is still crying as she holds Body close, trying to remember the same warmth they had in common. But everything feels cold and clouded around them. It couldn’t be too late! Could it…?

Their words to each other become muffled through the fog as Mind steps up the stairs to his home. He takes a moment to fish his keys from his pocket and insert his house key into the lock. All he hears is a soft cry as he unlocks the door, light immediately shining brightly from the windows and all around them.

“I don’t want to die…! Not yet…!”

He smiles. “Then I suggest you wake up now.”


My eyes felt as if they were sealed shut as I tried to pry them open. I felt absolutely exhausted, as if I had been hit by a truck or something. A yawn managed to escape my sore jaw before I began to hear small whispers around me. My eyes finally opened to a fluorescent light in the ceiling above me, and a white-haired man in a doctor’s coat greeted me in my peripheral.

“Are you alright, Miss Spencer, can you hear us?” he called out, albeit quietly. I couldn’t move my head much, but I nodded in response. “Oh good god, this is nothing short of a miracle!”

The look I made probably tipped him off that I had no idea what was going on, and he returned with a clipboard in hand after a moment.

“You see, Miss Spencer, you were recently struck by vehicle a few day prior to now.” He explained. “You were knocked clear off your feet and were additionally injured after slamming into a building a few feet away. Don’t you remember?”

I found it a little funny that the pain of being hit still lingered, but the memory was completely gone. I shook my head to answer him, and a blast of pain shot through my neck. That was definitely going to hurt for a while…

“It’s amazing you managed to pull through,” the doctor said. “Many of us were nearly convinced you wouldn’t make it!”

It was a little disheartening hearing that from him, but I also felt relieved that I made it out alive for the most part. As I lay there, being told about my injuries in detail, I could hear my heart beating in my ears. I vaguely recalled the events that transpired before the accident.

My body felt heavy, like lead as I stared out into traffic.

Maybe it wasn’t an accident?

I don’t recall throwing myself out into the path of a moving vehicle, but thinking back as far as I could to that moment… there was something going on in my head. Some sort of ongoing conflict coming to a head and then… nothing.

Had I caused this on my own accord? Had I… Had I tried to kill myself?

My eyes slowly closed as I lay there, trying to remember. But as I thought, I began to feel warm, and sleepy. And as I drifted back into dreamland, I could hear little voices calling to me.

Maybe this will give you time to repair yourself physically. You’ll need it. Be careful.

Don’t be afraid of yourself. Despite what you think, remember you’re only human. Things happen.

You come together when you really need it. I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble.

I never did ask who spoke those words to me.

But for some reason, I felt comforted by them; I felt… at peace for once.