Imagination

Darkness, it encases me and suffocates me. Tingling shivers radiate drown my spine as I wrap my spaghetti arms around my stiff legs and my golden hair which is splattered with crimson liquid sticks to the back of my neck. “Always dark,” I chant quietly, “always dark…” Slowly the aged door creaks open, a faint light spills into the moist freezer. Hardly breathing I don’t move a muscle. “Why?” he asks sternly. “It’s dark here, why is it so dark?” I question. Strong, sturdy, and enforcing the silver steeled-toed boots stomp closer toward my fragile body, cowardly I hide, I curl into a protective ball, purple and blue excruciatingly painful bruises appear upon my pale skin as soon as the brutal beating starts. Before I even know it I’m bleeding uncontrollably, shaking, and weeping for mercy. Shapes begin to blur into random blobs of colors; navy blue, forest green, scarlet red, colors; actual colors. Shouts turn into silent murmuring being carried across a vast universe. I’m in heaven; I think I’m in heaven.
A numbing sensation overwhelms my limbs. And I’m no longer in the wonderful heaven just moments ago. Tears sting my eyes as a sob, “Because you love me.” Immediately the beating stops as he bends his creaky knees to look me in the eyes. I twitch as his warm hand presses against my icy chin to reposition my face to look at him. “And?” he asks patiently. The thumping in my chest increases dramatically as I realize that this game doesn’t end until the stronger one wins. This person thinks he has me like another one of his pawns. Defenseless, naive, and dumb, but he’s never played with me before. While taking a slow deep breath, “And I,” I answer, “I hate you.”
…
“Soft kitty warm kitty little ball of fur, happy kitty sleepy kitty purr, purr, purr,” I softly sing myself to sleep. No nightmare can ever be as bad as this messed up reality. No darkness can be as dark as it is now. My voice becomes raspy and desert dry as I try to dose off, try to forget the aching emptiness that my stomach holds, and I try to forget that once I had a heart where now, a void sits engulfing any emotions I have left. All through the night I continue to sing, “Soft Kitty,” while gazing at the flurries of color that seem to pass in my eye. Color is the last bit of reality I still hold, and even that seems to be fading quickly, into darkness, toward my enemy. My gray, thunder cloud eyes begin to droop slowing into a trace of dreams.
Thunder claps immediately as the sky splits down with the electric light. Rain pours down my drenched shirt as I run for dear life. Everything is my tormentor, I think; I’m never safe, never. Everything is a viscous weapon bent on destroying me, all except my kidnapper. He stands there watching as my imagination destroys me, defeats me, becomes me. Leaves morph into deadly sharpened butcher knives hanging precariously overhead as the terrifying creatures chase me to finally face it, my worst fear. It’s right in front of me, yet unfocused due to the mass destruction surrounding me. And as if reading my damaged mind he states, “Because it’s dark, it shall come for you.”
Hyperventilating I take I triple, no quadruple check that I’m alive and, well… just alive. Bitter tears race across my bruised face as the ancient door opens once again. Slightly shaking I close my eyes and block him out, out of sight out of mind right? Unfortunately, I was wrong. He crouches lower to whisper into my ear, “You know you’re sexy when you’re scared.” He inches closer toward my cracked lips and plants his puffy, healthy lips roughly on mine. It must be Friday; he always plays his games on Fridays. As always, I let him use me, because if I don’t, I will be refused the liquid and the slimy fish-like mush for multiple days. Long fat finger glide down my neck toward my… if I don’t look it would have never happened I remind myself. While rounding my hips he becomes more forceful, expecting me to play along now. My ice hands reach his belt, stretching around his waist to inspect every last aspect of him. What’s this?
...
My gray eyes spring open; I’m seven again, rushing hastily downstairs to discover the Christmas surprises awaiting me from the beloved Santa. I’m twelve kissing the poster of Leonardo DiCaprio hanging on the wall. I’m two trying to sneak a cookie on top of the cabinet. I’m thirteen weeping on my bed because my boyfriend dumped me in a text. I’m nine climbing to the tippy top of the Oak tree in my backyard, and succeed. I was so naïve, so innocent and unaware of the evils in the world. Gracefully I wield the metal object in my shaky hands now, barely able to swipe it. “Goodbye,” I whisper, switching the weapon point toward me and I don’t hesitant when I pull the trigger.
…
Falling, falling, toward the sky; no more in the mercy… of my imagination.