Dark Angel

EPILOGUE

THE LIGHT IN the flat is a heavy grey, just like in the city far below. Slussen’s never-ending circle with its constant stream of cars. They stubbornly continue to come from every direction, like arteries to a pumping heart. Then they disperse into the stinking body that is Stockholm.

It’s time. I feel closer to myself than I ever have before. In the past I always lived through other people and for other people, wanting to please them. Trying to live up to something. And I always failed.

I’ve merely been playing a role from the very beginning.

I feel immensely tired. I no longer need to keep going. Or keep fighting. Or suffering. Soon it will be over. I gaze out at the city. I’m a stranger in the midst of everything going on around me. I no longer want any part of it.

I had a dream that I was allowed to live my own life, just like everyone else. Work, travel, live. Give and receive love. Spend time with people, accumulate experiences, build relationships and mature. I imagined a future with a family, security and love.

That’s no longer a possibility. It’s not meant to be. I had a son, whom I love. I hope that he will experience all those things. That he will take charge of his own life.

My time on this earth is over. Sun, wind, snow, rain – never again will I witness the changes in weather. Or hear the howling of the storm over the sea. Or see the dawn.

Soon there will be nothing but night.

I’m looking forward to the embrace of darkness. I imagine death as sinking into the enveloping comfort of a woman’s arms. Maybe it’s true that we return to where we started. Inside our mother’s body, inside her womb, inside the soft, rocking, silent darkness, unaware of what is to come.

Maybe that’s what happens.

I pick up the photograph of Katrina and Daniel and kiss it tenderly. I will hold these two, whom I love, in my hand when I die.

Then I won’t be alone.