The Demons That Tempt Me

Abraham

Abraham always visits you. He seems to favour you a lot. He takes hold of your imagination and daydreams. He finds me anytime and anywhere, hiding is proven to be useless. He always whispers into your ears, it was as though his words were secrets. He would sneak up from behind you, his tendrils lightly sweeping your neck, caressing your arms. Then He proceeds to embrace you, pulling you in. It's often white, pure and serene. Then the memories float around, ducking in and out of the tendrils of white smoky fog that appear before you. It pervades every corner of the space you are in. As you walk towards the memories, they disappear, fading into the distance, leaving a trail of dust, sparkling white dust. They are like children who shy away from a stranger’s touch. You follow the trail of dust, walking aimlessly. The space doesn’t seem to end. But yet you feel no fear, no happiness, no emotion. Then, Abraham would pull you out and his face would be right in front of yours. 

"What did you see? Tell me. Tell me, sweetheart, tell me what you see." 

"Nothing. I saw nothing. I saw nothing." I would mumble, confused about the images.

Then just like that Abraham would leave you to wonder about the daydream that was already fragmented by the time he left. He left as quickly as he came.