To Name The Dark

liquorice and rotted secrets

I have not stopped shaking. But it is on me to tell this story regardless. I feel as if I am plunging off a diving board with no idea how deep the water is.

Let's just hope there are no sharks.

It was a hot day. I did not notice this at the time. Well, perhaps a little, but only enough to wear shorts. I am delaying, I know. But it seems important to get down every detail, etch this day permanently in my brain.

It was a hot day, and a holiday. I was at a theme park. Me and my friends, brandishing sculptures of candyfloss and wide, wide smiles. My hair was glossy, and long. Now it is shaved off. I thought I would care more. I thought a lot of things. Anyway. My brother was half-running next to us. He was six, and our teenage strides were too long for him.

We talked of mundane things, and clambered on rides with alien names: The Whirler, The Blitz, The Screamer. No one said anything they meant and no one really cared, but this, for us and many others, was normal. No one talked about the dark thing, but we could sense it tinting the sky slightly purple, a bruise.

We were walking over downtrodden grass, still smiling, when it happened. My little brother was clutching a lion toy he had won.  Maybe he was thinking of nothing but the softness of its fur. Maybe he was thinking that everyone at the theme park was hiding their loneliness behind wide, wide smiles. Maybe he was thinking nothing at all.

Me? I was thinking of the dark thing, and that one time in the night, alone, and more than that, lonely, I had whispered its name. I had not told my friends of this, or of the heady rush of power this had given me, darkly sweet like liquorice. Should I have told them? What would they have said? I can imagine it now. The fading of smiles, those nervous laughs. Maybe they would have asked me about it, hugged me. Maybe they would have stared at the bruised sky, shuddered, and taken me home. Maybe. But I needed my secrets, like we all did.

Then the screams began. This was not unusual at a theme park, but these screams were not adrenaline fuelled. We turned. Me. My brother. My friends. Both the turn, and the realisation, were simultaneous. Everyone was frozen, eyes wide, smiles discarded. We all understood that this was the beginning of the end. Nobody moved, and the screams continued. I don't know how long we stood there. Seconds? Minutes? Years? The screams stopped, and the silence that followed felt less like peace and more like elastic being slowly stretched. As the silence continued, the tension grew. We were the rubber bands, waiting for the snap.

Then the screams began again, deeper and closer to me. A man this time. He jerked as though being electrocuted. He spasmed, his mouth wrenched open.

What I did next... it could have been called pity, sympathy. But I did not go to help him. I wanted out of this life of masks. I wanted the power. Suddenly I was standing before him, and reaching out a hand. I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe I was thinking that this was my fate. Maybe I was thinking that the dark thing would spare me. Maybe I was thinking that I didn't want to be alone any longer.
I pressed my palm to his. The world went over-bright. Colours too sharp. It hurt to keep my eyes open, so I closed them. And then- and then...

I don't want to talk about the power. But I will. What else could I do? It is bad manners, my great-aunt once said, not to finish a story. So I will finish this, and hope the finishing doesn't tear me apart.

Behind my eyelids, the shadows rose. I wrenched my eyes open, and tears spilled out, blackened like rotted secrets. They poured down my cheeks, more and more of them, until I was drenched in darkness. Slowly, they turned from droplets to a steady flow. This acid that didn't burn me flooded out of me, waves that leapt, crested, fell. People screamed, and the screams cut deep, jagged knives that twisted...I was not screaming, I realised belatedly. No, I was... laughing. Not because of something funny. It was hysterical laughter, the screeching of a mad witch. Insanity beckoning. The liquid black still spouted from my tear ducts. Not from inside me, from a darker place than this. I could feel myself falling, glittering shards and mirror dust tumbling through the void. I could feel the sandcastle of my sanity sliding out towards the open ocean. So, out of self-preservation, I shut it all out.

I can feel your judgement, your needle-sharp glares. Keep them to yourself. It was my fault, and I take responsibility, but... we are only human. And I didn't know this would happen. I only wanted to- to not be alone, to be powerful. Ha! Look how well that turned out. I am the marionette, and I am more alone than ever. Back to the story. I need to finish it, to feel like I have done some thing right. I have never been religious, but... I guess this is my confession.

I watched as the waves leapt, hungry wolves, at the people. Their eyes held terror, and not much else. It is funny how fear can strip your layers away, take down the masks and the wide wide smiles. Turn you into an animal.

The waves caressed them, crashed over them, and they melted, faces twisted in agony. I supposed they were screaming. I supposed I was horrified. But I watched, now, as if through a screen. The only emotion I really felt was disappointment. I had thought there would be power, something filling me up, but instead there was only emptiness. I stopped laughing.
I did not look at the broken bodies, some half melted, others worse. I closed my eyes and curled into the foetal position. I tried my hardest not to think.

The waves still flowed, the rhythm of them pounding the earth lulling me to sleep, a broken lullaby.

thea

she is
a monster
claws of
greed,
fangs of tarry waves.
fangs of power
that she cannot
control.
she pressed her palm
against the man's
because
she was lonely
because
she was bored.
from
her
eyes poured tears
of acid.
she stood and watched as
they melted.
now she waits
cocooned
in her delusions.
the tide
floods over her
her centre
cannot hold.
sandcastle.
marionette.
monster.
girl?

Doesn't that star look kind of annoying not filled in? Why don't you fill it in? It will be super satisfying... promise.