By Lara Dunning
At night I want them to come. I push the window ajar so they can creep into my room with ease. It is the only way to keep the demons at bay. With no one to torment me I glide into bed satisfied with our arrangement.
Just as they near the room my skin prickles. At first, they hover at the window, then slip through the crack and my room is filled with their cold, lifeless bodies. From their mouths comes more frigid air and soon the demons are pushed back into the darkness. Under their watchful eye my memories slip away and my soul becomes an empty canvas. Nothing can hurt me in a space where no color or emotion exists.
They are but clear shadows upon my wall. They remember human pain, the joy and the sorrow of living, and so they watch over me. There’s no tossing and turning, no haunted memories of faces and facts that can never be changed. Only solace in what is.
When the first beams of light penetrate my window the protective barrier shatters. The shadows scurry from the sunlight. The icy barrier I have cocooned myself in breaks into a million pieces. My soul, my heart, everything that made me who I am is shoved back down my throat into the labyrinth of my aching heart.