Wretched Creature

By : Osiris

 

      She sat hugging her knees in the middle of the room. The single window was open and the peach-pink curtains were floating up like the window’s wings. The wind had picked up the irresponsible wisps of her dark black and medium brown hair and framed them across her face, like curtains to the window of her face. Her eyes were half closed, or half opened depending on how you looked at it. The lashes outlined the soft reddish-brown of her irises, curtains to the windows to her soul.

 

      Soft reddish brown, like red earth, freshly tilled and seeded. Thrown into their lines and crevices were the small, hard and bitter seeds of tragedy. Given salt tears for rain and a tormented soul for sun, they now blossomed into the look of loss and being adrift in a world where no one seems to be there for her.

 

      Lightning flashed outside the window and within the reddish-brown earth of her eyes, lightning flashed as well. But when the thunder rolled, the only response she gave was a soft sob.

 

      Her glasses lay beside her, folded up and dead as all non-living things are. Her slate-blue jacket lay behind her, scattered about and dead as all non-living things are. Her heart lay in pieces throughout the room, shattered and dead as all once-living-but-now-dead things are.

 

      Rocking back and forth, her sobs grew in intensity but her wretchedness didn’t abate. She screwed her eyes shut, her brow furrowed in pain as if trying to shut out all the evil memories by shutting out reality, imagination, pain, sorrow and most of all, truth, by a great big brick wall.

 

      A brick wall with weak cornerstones.

 

      “She’s not going to be alright” The thunder crashed just as the memory forced itself through a chink. She winced as if she was struck across the face. “There’s nothing you can do. You’re not even supposed to care”

 

      Too late, her red-brown eyes opened, stark in their pain and in their wretchedness. She fell backwards, curling up into a fetal position, her steadily increasing sobs wracking through her frame.

 

      “You cannot be blamed because you didn’t do anything. She doesn’t care that you care. In fact, no body cares that you care. Why care at all?”

 

      What took two years to build was beginning to fade before her eyes. All this time, she was sobbing and scratching at her eyes, anything to stop the torment.

 

      Anything that will tell her that the existentialist thoughts that were running through her head were wrong.

 

      “It isn’t wrong. It’s the truth. You’re caring about people who don’t care about you. That is a useless waste of energy. After you die you, can’t even tell yourself that you’ll at least see her in heaven. There is NO heaven. Besides, even if there was, what makes you think you’ll get there?”

 

      “I’M IN HELL!” she screamed back at the voices in her head.

 

      “You’re in the land of the living” they laughed back, “Same thing.”

 

      “Someone does care that I care. Shutupshutupshutup”

 

      “You’ve been trying to do that for the past two years. Give it up, we’re here and here we shall stay.”

 

      “Then stop tormenting me!”

 

      “Tormenting you with what? The truth? Truth hurts however you may sugarcoat it, might as well give it straight out.”

 

      “It is not the truth. You’ve twisted it around…”

 

      “Then you tell me. How many lives have you destroyed because you cared for them? You cared for them so deeply?”

 

      “That isn’t true. it’s coincidence…”

 

      “You call four ruined lives coincidence? Tell me now who is cold hearted hm?”

 

      “They are…”

 

      “They are all suffering because of you! You’ve destroyed each of their lives.”

 

      “Leave me alone!”

 

      “Yes, Alone. Like back then.”

 

      “…Back then, I had no heart…”

 

      “Then it won’t break.”

 

      “Back then, I had no soul”

 

      “Then it won’t have to be redeemed.”

 

      “Back then, I wasn’t anyone”

 

      “Then you’ll never be broken anymore”

 

      “No more…?”

 

      “No more”

 

      “Alone?”

 

      “Safe.”

 

      “I need to think…”

 

      “No need. We’ve done it for you…”

 

      Her sobs had faded away, and with it her shaking stopped. The soft black rosette of loss came into full bloom in the soft reddish brown earth of her eyes.

 

      She lay in the middle of the room, in a fetal position. Her glasses lay beside her, folded up and dead as all non-living things are. Her slate-blue jacket lay behind her, scattered about and dead as all non-living things are. Her heart lay in pieces throughout the room, shattered and dead as all once-living-but-now-dead things are.

 

 

The end?