If you dare to go far enough, you might just get lucky and capture a moment as intimate as this one. Embedded within the forest of consciousness, imagine an instant of unadulterated acceptance between her and him. A woman and her monster. How did we get here?
He has been with her for as long as she can remember. When she was younger, he would help her deal with an alcoholic father and an overbearing mother. Those people had their own problems, he used to whisper into her ears, just take the pill and it will all be alright. She snatched them from her mother’s drawer, stashed neatly underneath the socks. She lingered in an instant of hesitation – a child intuitively understanding the difference between her favorite chocolate treats and her mother’s benzos. But it wouldn’t last. The monster would be there to remind her of the blissful slumber her mother would drift into shortly after ingesting one of these magical drops. She would always look so peaceful, like nothing could hurt her.
Over the years, she became accustomed to his alien breath. He comforted her when no one else would, made her feel like she belonged to this place, even though she clearly didn’t. She wasn’t afraid of this monster that would crawl up from underneath her bed. She was afraid of the screams that echoed from every corner of the house. Now she knew how to escape them. She would take a pill, close her eyes, and hear the voices evaporate into the night.
With every whisper and each pill, a void within her grew. The monster’s presence had grown faint. He had done his work, everything was running on autopilot. And yet, something didn’t feel quite right. With adulthood, what once was her refuge became her prison. The pills transitioned from fleeting escapes to suffocating chains, binding her to memories she longed to forget but was powerless to let go of. She needed to find him, talk to him. Not to blame him for making her believe she was not worthy of being loved, but to embrace the pain that her life has brought forth.
He knew what was coming. When she found him waiting within the deep forest of her heart, he told her of all the dangers she would have to face without him. He told her about the disappointment, the regret, and the pain that awaited her in a world she couldn’t ever hope to control.
She approached him, for the first time, with sincerity and compassion. She embraced him with her arms and as he closed his eyes, it was as if a veil had been lifted. At that moment, it wasn’t just him she was accepting, but the endless repository of pain, memories, and decisions that made up her being. She realized that moving forward didn’t mean outrunning her pain. It meant acknowledging every broken shard of glass and weaving them into the tapestry of her life. These shards grew sharper the longer she ignored them. To pick up the pieces was her way of honoring the journey, understanding that the shadows of yesterday would haunt her forever if she refused to acknowledge them.
You’re currently exploring the narrative world of Whispering in Color. Each tale in this series delves into the relationships we maintain with our inner monsters. These creatures are manifestations of our fears, insecurities, and past experiences that often go unseen. These stories bring them into the spotlight, giving them form, color, and meaning.