The Wolf and The Rose

The Darkness

 There was something comforting about the evening shade. The Wolf grew fond of his surroundings, deep in the verdure of bush and bramble. He looked up in the sky, watching the colors he had come to adore slowly flee as shadows marched across the sky. Just as well. He could not face those colors with the same eyes that watched them dance as freely as they mocked him, as before. Perhaps he would familiarize himself with this new character, it offered him security and preserved his solitude. He had strayed away from it for so long as he felt they were an accomplice of The Storm, but this didn't matter anymore.

 He took steps deeper into its arms drifting closer and closer to a land he once feared. Stray branches and vines would latch on to his body without any signs of letting go. The moments he would strain against their grasp, he'd find himself being carried closer and closer. Soon the silhouettes of the forage melted together before him. He no longer moved. In that silence, he laid there. The ground and sky below him, one. This was what it meant to survive. This was The Darkness. 

In The Darkness there was nothing more to gather, nothing left to desire, nowhere left to travel. The Darkness, unlike the others, had no motive. Perhaps more so than The Storm, The Darkness had always been there lurking in every corner right beside The White. Upon first glance, The Darkness seemed to fear those lights, never wanting to appear together with its sibling. But it was clear to The Wolf now, that this was merely a game to The Darkness.

When The White and its other siblings finished their dance The Darkness would arrive with such an inescapable presence and wipe away all the light its siblings left behind as if they had never been there in the first place. Truly The Darkness had always been lurking there, impatient to reveal its sadism. 

In its realm, it was not the body that became weary, but the soul. With no buffer of the body between his soul and The Darkness, he could feel the full weight of his journey. The force was too much to contain in one place. Pieces of himself began to scatter, then freeze for a moment. They would swirl around him, drawn to the weight of his soul and forming a vortex. His life seemed to follow this inescapable pattern. 

No matter how far he traveled he would always come back to this come back to the eye. His demeanor now was not of defeat though. The long battle he fought seemed so distant and confusing now, he couldn't decipher what he was fighting much less declare a victor or loser. The Pack, his rival, the tiny warriors, the beast, The Wolf, they were all one in the same. Strung along by The Storm. The Storm and all that encompassed it: 

Energy. Pushing out from within. Overflowing desire.

I must survive. Above all. I am great. Existing where all can see. Love. The correct one. Survive. Normal. I am seen as great. I can create. Live. Long awaited freedom. Acceptable. Together. I'm in control. Free from judgment. Self-worth. The rule. Momentary. Accepted. Equilibrium. I must be the center. Live through others. Approved by all. Satisfied.

Pain. Gathered now bursting. Feeding off of fear.

I may die. The last one. The exception. Shame. Chance. Time. Eternal. The martyr. Distraction. I will fail. Imbalance. Below all. The forgotten. Empty. The restrictions holding me back. I cannot be in the center. Discomfort. The wrong one. Alone. I may fail. The one who is judged. I am humble. Existing in the blind spot. Discarded. Fate. Unsatisfied. 

Revolution after revolution, they all continued to spin. He couldn't make sense of any of it. The weight was too much. He tried to live in a world that opposed everything The Storm stood for. Challenging his own body to stand against it. He tried to live in a world that ignored The Storm. A world that tucked it neatly under a rainbow of light that could make anything seem beautiful. But a world without The Storm, not even in The Darkness could he find such a place. If anything The Darkness took pleasure in watching The Storm abuse him, pushing it upon him knowing he had no means or will to defend himself. 

The Wolf grew tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of thinking. Tired of reason. He adopted lethargy and lameness, and sank deeper into the pits of The Darkness as the weight of his soul grew. Deeper and deeper into The Darkness picking up speed as he fell. The Darkness was sure to spread its thick tar aside to allow The Wolf to fall more easily.

 He felt a certain peace in this solitude. Was this what he had been avoiding his whole life? Survival had been...vexing but this was...simple. Was he being buried? It was impossible to be certain of anything here, but it also didn't matter. This was the world now, The Storm, The White, The Wolf,  The Hunger, nothing. Past all the layers and layers of his vision, once all the lights and characters were stripped to bone, when there was nothing but his exposed core drowning in its essence, forced to befriend itself...there was The Darkness.       

That was the signal. One thought. Somehow escaping the vortex, a stray piece of himself slipped through The Darkness and followed him. It was insistent in its pursuit, breaking the tar with its strength rather than waiting for it to subside. When it finally managed to reach him, and pierce his soul, the force resounded across The Darkness. The walls of black began to chip and peel, felled by a single simple notion:

So what?

How long had it been...how many times had he almost been buried? The Storm had been there, born from nothing, infinite, destroyed The Pack, tried to rule every part of his life...but he was still here. For all of its great strength and influence, he managed to live and not just that, but have such a varied and rich experience in life as well. He, young, weak, and pathetic was always able to move forward. Even now; still, silent,and sojourn, was in motion. In his deepest thoughts he always needed to travel. He had been running, it just seemed natural he'd always be running away from something. But until now he had never considered there was something to run to. 

 Something...there had to be something, that allowed him to live despite it. The Darkness continued to break away, but its wisps did not disappear. Rather, they formed tiny flakes and fell with The Wolf. What... what was the answer lying within The Darkness? They continued down the rabbit hole like hail, falling down faster than The Wolf. What had been keeping him moving if not The Storm, in fact despite it? What could it be that allowed him to live in the world of The Storm? He was still falling into the black abyss gathering at the bottom. 

The Wolf continued his descent, unsure of what lied below him. His vision began to blur, but through a glimpse he was able to see a bed of thorns awaiting him below.