It's dark in
here. Dark and damp. In the distance, I can see a flickering light. I don't
like it. It casts shadows. Ghoulish shadows which send a chill down my spine. I
divert my mind from the shadows and go back to focusing on the task at hand.
The splinters on the cold, wooden handle on the hammer dig deeper into the pale
skin on my palms as I relentlessly hammer against the concrete wall. The cement
begins to crack and chip, but barely gives away.
These walls were
built with a lot of care, so meticulously, with the intention that they will be
impossible to break. The difficulty of the task is best known only to me. I’m
the one who built it painstakingly, brick by brick, layer of mortar by mortar.
Like a mother who nurtures the child within her with her own blood and flesh.
Strengthening him with her determination, extending the best of her capability
towards his development. This wall was my baby. It was my creation. It was my key
to survival.
And now, as I
hammer away at it, my heart experiences for the first time what they call a
sense of freedom. An emotion I have never felt before. With every speck of
cement and brick that chips off the wall, I feel my wings break out. Those
invisible chains around my wrists begin to unlock. The shackles on my ankles
slowly start to dismantle.
Again that
flickering light. Again those ghoulish shadows. This time they mock me. They
throw stones at me. They point at me and laugh out aloud. “Stupid! Naïve!
Immature! Foolish!”
My hands feel
weak. I can’t hold on to the hammer anymore. The splinters on the handle have dug
way too deep. I can feel the nauseating smell of sweat mixed with blood rising
from my palms. I throw the hammer away and recline against the wall. I soak in
the damp, cold sensation of the wall against my bare skin. It still reeks of my
tears. The crevices between the bricks are alive with the moss of broken dreams
and promises that were never kept.
I shut my eyes
and let the voices of the shadows in. They grow louder and louder. They grow stronger and
stronger. They thunder, they rumble, they fill
up the room, they fill up my mind, they fill up my soul, they fill up my eyes
and then they come to a crescendo.
Suddenly I feel
a sharp pang of pain in my back, my wrists and my ankles. The wings are
receding back under my skin. The chains around my wrists are beginning to lock
again, tighter than before. The shackles around my ankles grow back, stronger
than before.
I go back to
lying down on the cold, hard floor in fetal position. My hands clenched, knees
curled up and face curled down till they meet. One last tear flows down my
cheek as the wall looks down at me and whispers into my ears “You're not ready yet. Go back into your
deep slumber. I will watch over you”
