It

By: Kathy


It's coming closer. I know it is. I can feel it. Slowly approaching, creeping, sneaking. I'm in my room now, I should be safe. Doors are locked, windows closed. But it can get in anyway. If it wants to. And it does want to. I know it does. I can feel it wanting, needing, craving. But I can't let it in, can't let it get to me. No place is safe. Nowhere to hide, nowhere to run. Turn out the lights and hide in the darkness. But it can still see, it can always see me. It lives in the dark. Slowly stalking me. Shrouded in shadows. Crouching, waiting to strike. I shouldn't fear it, but I do. I should accept it, but I can't. It is the hunter and I am the prey. I don't want to be caught. God, I am terrified of being caught. To be held captive in its grasp. Struggling, weakening, surrendering. I won't surrender to it. To surrender would mean death. The death of all that remains of me. I've lost so much of me already. I look in the mirror and I don't see the me that I was before. He is gone forever. No more. I mourn him. I grieve for him. But he is gone, ashes to ashes and dust to dust. Still that's not enough, never enough. It is always wanting more, demanding more. I can't give anymore. There's nothing left. Just an empty shell. Tired, drained, brittle. What more does it want? What more is there for me to give? I've sacrificed everything. My life, my career, my reputation. Everything's gone. I willingly gave up everything to protect that which matters most to me. And still it comes. Please go away. Leave me alone. I can't fight now. Too tired, too weak. But it knows that. It knows that I am weary. It knows that this is a time when I might give in, give up. I hate it for that. I despise it for that. For taking advantage of my weakness, my momentarily lapse of vigil. I curse it, I hate it. I bless it, I love it. Swirling emotions, mixed feelings. I'm washed away by their tide, slipping beneath, trapped. My spirit drowns as my body once did. I struggle to the surface. Fighting my way up. To get above. To breathe again. I ache from resisting. I hurt. The pain overwhelms. I long to rest, to let down my guard. To sleep without dreaming of it. It jumps out at me in my dreams. Even in sleep there is no rest. Always on the alert, on the run. Always it tracks me, it chases me. No where. No where. No where for me to go. I am trapped, snared, entangled. I hear it. It moves stealthily. But I can still hear it. I know the sound it makes when it comes stalking. Out of the corner of my eye I see it. It is close. It is here. Leave. Go. Come. Stay. I don't know anymore. Do I welcome it, embrace it? Do I shun it, evade it? I used to know. I used to have the answers. Now I know the truth. There are no answers. Only puzzles, riddles. It offers no explanations for the demands it makes. It gives only confusion and uncertainty. I'm so tired now, especially now after all the doubt and suspicion. It would be so easy to submit, to acquiesce. To lay down and let it come embrace me. But would it embrace me or consume me? Does it even matter anymore? Is there a point to fighting anymore? A reason to keep resisting? I forget. The answer hovers just out of my grasp. Alluding me. Teasing me. I am so tired. I lie down. I close my eyes. I let my guard down. I give up the battle. I surrender. And it comes. It is wary at first. Disbelieving, skeptical. I have fought against it for so long. It is bewildered by my sudden submission. But it is not sudden. It has been wearing me down. Whittling away at my endurance. I feel it as it approaches. It is near. I open my eyes and it is there. It sits by my bed. Studying me, scrutinizing me. I have no secrets from it. I can hide nothing from it. It sees my soul, my very essence. Then it attacks, it strikes. It takes me. It is inside me now. Forever joined. And I was right. It does consume. I stand up and go look in the mirror. It stares back at me from behind my eyes. The last remaining part of me is gone and the only thing reflected back is the Wolf.

The End

 

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