Of monsters, fear, and silence
What do you do when a monster gets into your head?
what garb did he wear and entice you with for you to have been blinded to the monstrosity lurking behind?
what fear of yours did he see as he forced himself inside you and your head?
what borrowed dream did he distract you with as his hand slipped under your dress?
your eyes go wide in shock as it happens, but before you could even utter a word of protest, an arm clamps your mouth shut. the voice dies in your throat.
you make feeble attempts to get out, you attempt to reason, you fail.
you are too scared to do anything after. you smile as you try to brush it away in memories that you never want to ever visit again.
you wonder if it was even real or all just a bad dream?
you wonder how you could let it happen to you.
he laughs it off like a joke. like a transaction he made. like a fear he just bought.
you wonder later driving back home on what you could have said when it was happening to make it stop, to make him disappear. to let it never happen again.
the fear gnaws at you later when you are sitting in your room trying to pretend it never happened.
that it was all okay. that it was all a bad dream and it would be over soon.
where do you run to?
who could you even run to?
too scared for both, too shamed for one.
who could you even blame except for your own fear?
fear that silenced you. fear that you did not even want to admit to yourself, forget another. fear that you still are scared to face.
you try to think of all the circumstances you must not be in with the monster, what excuse and disguise he may use so you can avoid them, all the reasons to get out of his grasp and run away from him and never see him again.
you want to rewind to the beginning, erase it all and start again.
but could you ever even forget?
how do you free yourself of a monster that you allowed inside your head letting him satiate off your fear?
the days go by in the aftermath as you shrug it off and try to go on with life. days where you make yourself believe that it was the best it could be and you try to carve your way forward. days when you look for a way to get out.
but you obviously never believe it. because you know you already have sacrificed yourself to a monster’s whim.
you try to tell someone about it.
you give out a signal for help like a stranded lonesome sailor’s fire on an obscure island only for it to go by unnoticed like those embers. a call for help disguised as a request, as an indulgence. you smile it away . you couldn’t have blamed anyone for not identifying it. for you were alone in it and it was your monster.
and then you think it was over, that it could never happen again. it wouldn’t. you avoid all the circumstances.
but it evolves like cancer.
suddenly one day you feel the monster’s hand on your arse again, greedy for appeasement again.
you panic as you try to get out of his grasp.
you go home and hasten to make plans on how to get out.
and it goes on.
until,
you get out one day. finally, it’s over.
you do not know what’s next but just that you’re free.
residues of fear still remain.
you still try to forgive, try to make peace with it. you know you can’t, not yet at least.
shamed in your own eyes.
but you remember having been told that your world could be anything you wanted it be.
You do not know if you can ever forgive yourself for it. You do not know when you can truly bury it in your forgotten memories; but you know you will make it. you have to.
You now know why mama used to say never to accept candies or a ride from a stranger.
The monsters are real. up your guard and buckle up, love. That’s what you tell yourself.
There’s only so much fear will let do once you let a monster in. Never again.
