Sitting on the bed, legs crossed and still, she sits and wonders how her life could be so real that it’s like a fantasy – a fantasy gone bad. She stops and smiles at herself wondering how she didn’t go mad or maybe she really is and just doesn’t know. She bows her head as the tears begin to flow.
So many things have happened to her, she must laugh at her lot – for years she sat in a darkened cave, alone and distraught. So familiar with heartache, she wanted to run and hide but every time she moved she always seemed to collide into a wall that was unseen, held in place by tightened chains that cut deep into her flesh causing even greater pains.
Sometimes she had to stop fighting and just sit down and rest and it sometimes seemed like resting put a bigger burden on her chest. The weights grew so heavy that she knew she couldn’t stand. She fell to the dirty floor unable to comprehend how life could be so hard, full of disappointment and fear. And happiness seemed to turn and run anytime that she came near. She didn’t know that things are often much different than they appear.
Everyday she heard them taunting her, playing their heartless games. She cried so much she eventually believed herself to be all those names that they gave to her, assigned to her, thought of her to be. And all she ever dreamed of was one day to be free.
If darkness could be tangible, she could hold it in her hands. For it shrouded her and held her captive in it’s chilling land. A prisoner of silence, she was sentenced early on. Parole wasn’t an option. She was sentenced without doing wrong.
So in her small cave of darkness, she sat as a little girl. Afraid and brokenhearted, this became her only world. Nightmares kept her dreams far from her reach and terrors icy hand held her tight and took her speech. She fell deeper into a hole of depression and despair; always hoping for a hand to reach out to her and care.
She lost her voice deep inside of her and silence took it’s place. It filled her heart and mind without leaving a single trace of who she really was or what she was here to be. This hovel became her home and she had no way to flee.
It was while she sat there, still in her cellblock, that the guards of Fear and Self-Hatred always came to mock. They came to her cell and teased her through the iron bars. They whipped her with their hands and words leaving many scars.
What was left within her? There was nothing she ever spoke. Did she mean anything to anyone or was her life just a joke? She wasn’t laughing, she was crying tears too big to shed. The wounds continued bleeding and infection started to spread. She knew that she wouldn’t make it. She knew that she would die. For years she’d been in this place, there was no way to reply.
Words are like arrows and sometiems peirce us to the core. They’re thrown around haphazardly and then they throw some more. To this prisoner of silence, alone in her cell, a word of life could do so much, it could change her world.
She cried out daily for a rescue to take place. She longed for her time to be up and maybe she could taste a part of life she’d never known to be available to see – something different from the ugly darkness, where is her beauty?
A guard came to the cell with a visitor in tow. Said his name was Truth and he had a rich glow that lifted some of the darkness that had cuffed her in so tight. It was then that she began to see things in a different light. He told her he could free her and her eyes changed with a small hope. She was very scared and put her chained hands out to slightly grope his hand, not knowing what to expect.
He gave her something glassy that seemed to reflect. She saw it was a mirror and held it up to her eyes. They were full of pain and sorrow, there was no way to disguise the anguish and abuse that covered her in a shallow grave. She had become more than a victim. She’d become a slave. She wept softly at what her life had become. In her mouth, held silently chained still and unused, sat her tongue.
Truth stared into her eyes and said, “What do you want me to do? First, let me tell you something and I’ll ask again when I am through. I’ve known you for a while now and I’ve been waiting for your call. It was when you cried out for a rescue that your chains began to fall.”
Sitting silent and in this cell, with her head down and eyes half-closed, she decided she needed to look again and see the way Truth glowed.
She lifted up her head and tried to focus her eyes. Suddenly she saw Truth above all the mountains of lies. She wasn’t all alone as she had thought before. The truth had been there waiting for her like an open door. All the years of lies ran, she heard then shrieking down the hall. The more she focused on the Truth, the more the lies got small. The chains began to break, their hold could be no more. For Truth had it’s vengeance and higher was his score.
Thinking About Thinking... 