A silent cry for help
That is what I heard in the night.
It woke me from my slumber and stole me from the light. Straying from the flickering tv and the blankets warm and gentle… it’s a long walk to the truth. The pictures on the wall watch me as I pass. And the door swings open to the empty room alas.
Only one step. One more to go! Wait for me; one more step and then the monsters will know… it’s not safe for them to stay anymore. For surely they can’t take what I have in store!
But that silent cry for help did not have a hint of patience. And that one more step… is when the floor crumbles beneath my soul. That one creaky board that had to take its toll. That one more step is where the outsider becomes a victim.
I don’t understand the decision that was made
But mind you, I cannot- will not let this fade. And though that silent cry for help was calling to me, I was not there soon enough. I must walk with this shame and learn to move on. But deep down I know that this battle will never be won… because to move on would be to let go. And to let go would be to forget. And how can I ever forget when all I hold is regret… I can never forget the gift I was given. I can never forget this wonderful joy in the isolation and swelling darkness. Therefore I refuse to forget the horrible thing that took it away feeding on new sadness. And sadness doesn’t even begin to describe this complete pain and war that I’m shrouded in. I will never- NEVER forget the night I heard a silent cry for help.
The blankets are gone and I’m left on the icy floor; the floor now with a missing board that will never be repaired. I look around and this house is empty… empty and rotting, too old to be noticed. Too broken to be repaired.
