I think I’m dying. I feel nothing. There’s a distant hum in the background the sound of music, merriment, people going about their lives. Why does it sound so far away?
I hear soft cries. It’s the muffled sounds of crying and it echoes around me. My eyes finally focus and follow the sounds I hear. The room is dark and I can hardly make out the shapes around me. The moon casts a dull ray of light into the room and as I focus on the light, I see a figure huddled just beyond the light cast by the moon. The sounds are coming from over there. I stand and feel light headed and sit back down. My eyes adjust to the darkness and I look again at the figure tucked away in the shadows. It looks like a girl and she’s sitting with her head buried in her arms.
‘Why are you crying darling?’ I ask trying to find my way in the dark room to where she’s sitting. The crying becomes muffled. I see now that it is a young girl as she tries to melt into the wall hiding her presence. Her hair is woven into neat cornrows, there are bright colored bangles on her right arm and her nails are painted in a dark shade that I cannot make out. I’m on my hands and knees now and I crawl closer and say a little more softly, ‘why are you crying darling?’
Hands still buried in her arms she says softly ‘I don’t know’. Shaking her head, she says between sobs ‘Where am I? What am I doing here? Everything just feels wrong’. I seat close to her and put my arms around her trying in my little way to comfort her. She looks so broken, sitting there.
She lifts her head and says into the darkness, ‘I don’t know who I am anymore. I feel like I’m living someone else’s life. Like I’m a visitor in my own body. What happened to me? I used to be happy. I knew what I wanted and went for it. But after taking so many twists and turns, I forget who I was, who I am.’
Goose bumps creep all over my body as she continues to speak in a deadpan voice. She turns, looks into my eyes and I see into her dead unfathomable soul. I feel the emotions coursing through her and it suddenly hurts to breathe. Her thoughts are my thoughts, her fears are my fears. Her pain is mine.
I begin to cry, mirroring her tears. Its wretches out of me as I seat huddled in the corner, head buried in my arms, melting into the wall. Crying for what once was and struggling to figure out how to find my way back to the life I was meant to live. Back to the real me.
The real me, unmarred by unworthy causes, compromises, bad decisions and wasted promises. I want to be happy again. I want to live. I want to be found