I've Been Writing Again.

I did not know who I was, I knew I was more than a walking, talking meat sack, but I did not know what more was or even what it meant. Have you ever searched for something for a long time or just passionately and then when you've found it, you’re disappointed because you realized the chase was far more fulfilling than the catch. Well, I have. I felt the frustration, the pain and the adrenaline of obsession. I have felt the breeze at the end of the unfinished bridge and stared at the purpose, unreachable on the other side. I have been to the other side.

My chase began when the sleepless nights started, I would sit at my computer or lay in my bed constantly thinking, my brain grinding gears that slowly rusted as no rest came to the mechanism, no oil kept it running smoothly. I never had anything to do but lay there, just thinking and when there was nothing to think about, I’d just lay there remembering. The first thing I remembered was the small clouded window in the white door at the end of the corridor. I was about four years old when I was awoken during my sleep in which I probably dreamt of puppies or candy, those were the days, such innocence, simplicity. I heard the shouting at first, hysterical sobbing of woman that was angry at her target but also at herself. She shouted obscene insults as people do when being confrontational, her voice had this hope in it, hope that she was hurting him and winning some battle of hatred but also, there was pain in her words too, like someone inside her was trying to make her stop hurting him because she was hurting herself by doing so. There was no one inside him, all I heard from his retaliations was fake authority and power, this power also came through in the noises that woke me up completely, I've never been more awake, the noises of crashing and banging and skin hitting skin.

 I climbed out of my bed, my light brown hair still in a plait that my sleep had made messy, my white socks with frills at the ankles still on my feet looking pretty and out of place in my dim lit room and the darkness that oozed out of the couple and into the atmosphere of the one floored, two bed-roomed flat. I carefully placed my right foot down onto the first step of the small ladder that helped me get into bed at night and out of it in the morning, it was one of those beds for kids that are built with space under it for a child to play in and around. One step. Two step. Three bang. Four bang. The closer I got to the floor the louder the fight seemed to become, it was like every step I took was pushing the little plus symbol on a remote to turn up the volume. I finally reached the bottom, the floor at first felt unreal, like it would turn to lava in a split second. Before I let go of the ladder, which I squeezed tightly with every loud crash as if it would vibrate all the way to me and knock me to the ground, I looked back at my bed and was sort of memorized as I pictured me still lying there sleeping and oblivious. I looked to my wall and looked at the pink border that ran through the middle of it, every few inches along showed a happy skipping cartoon dog; I wondered if it would ever stop skipping. 

 I let go of the ladder and looked at my bedroom door that was partially open so a small amount of light came into my room in case I got scared or needed someone. I walked towards it slowly but curious, it was like walking into a bright light and wondering if I’d see arguing angels on the other side, but this was not my time. The light was so bright because my large blue eyes had not adapted to the electric bulbs that lit the corridor, the white walls, the horrible grey, scratchy carpet, the white door with the small clouded window. I push my door fully open and just stared at the door at the end of what seemed to be a mile long corridor and I did not take a step for at least 5 minutes, almost waiting for the crashing to end so I could go back to bed, guess who had won and celebrate the results when I woke again in the morning. The sounds, the shouting, the fighting, the anger, it did not stop. I had no idea what I was going to do when I reached the door, I hadn’t even decided if I would even open it. I moved on to tip toes and down again for a couple more minutes distracted by the light shining off the white gloss of the door and how it moved with me. 

I took a step, the light and it’s reflection stepped with me, I had no shadow yet with this step I saw the walls turn grey like a beast version of myself was blocking it’s brightness behind me, but by the sounds of it, the only beasts where not on this side of the door. I took another step. This is one of the most haunting steps of all because that small window on that white door at the end of the corridor clouded nothing, it showed me pain, anger, it showed me wounds. The loudest bang of all almost caused my socks to jump off of me, it shot my eye line straight to where it wanted it to be, he had fell into the door with a sound I seem to have blocked out of my mind, but my imagination only creates the worst sound of them all. He moved off the door just as quickly as he had felt it but he did not take all of himself, the small clouded window on the white door at the end of the corridor was smeared with blood. She was close to winning, but winning was far from my brain. The door was bleeding, he had hurt the door, squashed the shinning angel inside it. The mix of my terror and curiosity sparked everything to life as I tried to run back to bed, I got back to it quickly and safely of course, but only because I’d made it past the shadow beasts, I jumped onto foot sized islands across the lava, I held onto the ladder tight enough to keep the vibrations from knocking me to the ground.

 I sat in my bed, sat up so straight with my legs crossed and anxiously pulled at the frills on my socks, I can’t recall breathing for a while. All I could think about was the small window on the white door at the end of the corridor. In my panic I had pushed my bedroom door more shut than it had ever been in my beginning youth, it made my room almost pitch black, the small slit of light from the corridor, although dim and almost flickery, showed me one thing; the cartoon dog on my border cutting through the middle of my wall had stopped skipping.

Original words by Velvet Film