A Visitor

As if sparked with a surge of high wattage electricity, I slam the door shut; lock and deadbolt it before I can even catch a glimpse of what is on the other side. Why doesn't this door have a friggin' peep hole? I stand with my back to the door and my breath decides to play its sick little games. Before it can even turn to run away and hide I give it the worst look I can conjure up and it slinks back into my lungs, pouting as it goes. Are you nuts, Darci??? What if it's IT? I decide it would be wiser to inquire before I go opening my door to anyone. Or any THING for that matter.

"Hum...Who is it?" I try to disguise the fear in my voice. This was all new to me; usually I just swing open the door and let whoever wants in, in. I obviously have issues setting healthy boundaries. That's how IT came to know my mind, and know it well. IT would knock and I would let IT in. At first we just hung out and IT would show me all these things I had never seen before. They were interesting and appealing, and I always had so much fun doing them. They felt different, and good. I never had to think and there were never severe consequences to anything I did. After a while, however, I realized IT was taking advantage of the place and started staying over for way too long. Sometimes IT would stay for days; trash the place and never clean up, and leave traces of toxic behavior as obvious as daylight. Eventually I felt like IT was a roommate, and while I hated the feeling of IT living in my mind, it was all I knew. By that point, I had grown numb to IT’s presence, and the camp set up in that back room; the same room where IT took me when I was hurting, angry or sad, but especially when I was lonely. My stomach grew queasy at the thought of those lonely nights when IT would take me into that dark room with IT...

"IT? Is that you?" Silence. "WELL? IS IT???" Silence again. I was starting to feel more annoyed than I was afraid. "Well. If it is, you might as well do the hokey pokey and turn yourself around. You're not getting in. I don't want you here anymore. I cleaned out your stupid toxic camp! It's ALL gone." More silence. I pressed my ear to the door and I heard deep breathing. Breathing so powerful it gave me chills. Breathing that sounded like the wind. It can't be Determination or Self Control; they don't play games like this. They are entertaining enough, but they don't mess around, and they would know better about playing a joke like this on me right now. Or would they? “Self Control? Determination? Is that you guys? If it is, I don’t like this joke.” More silence, followed by the slightest shuffle in movement. "IT! IS THAT YOU???!!!" I was getting angry. Finally a voice carried its way through the door.

"I’m guessing that you don’t want it to be?" I didn't recognize this voice. But then again, IT never really spoke to me. IT would whispered close into my ear; a kniving, devious, spite-filled whisper that reeked of insanity. What kind of question is that, anyway? "Well, no! Of course not!" This came out shriller than I had expected. "Why not?” asked the voice so harmlessly. Why not? WHY NOT!! Well if this was IT than it was a clever little devil. If it’s not IT, then whoever is on the other side of this door obviously doesn't understand the hate I harbor and doesn’t have a clue what can they’re opening. I guess that rules out Self Control and Determination; they would know better. So it has to be IT! Who else could it be?

I can't really think of what to say, I have no answers, no good reasons. I just know in my heart that I can no longer stand to harbor IT in my mind.

"So if you can’t give me a good reason, then you must not be too sure, huh?"

What? Who does this…whatever think it is? What does it know? I have been struggling at the hands of IT for years now. You know what? Fine! Fine Mr. I- Won't-tell-you-who-I-am-but I'll ask-lots of-stupid-questions-instead.

"You really wanna know, huh?"

It almost sounded like this…thing was smirking when it said "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't."

Thanks. Thanks a lot. That's super helpful. At this point I was pretty sure IT was standing behind that door snickering at this stupid, stupid game. I am sure his sick yellow teeth are showing through his crooked disgusting smile. Surely his breath is seeping out invading the pure air around it and taking it hostage with its smell of humid decay. Argh!! I hate IT!!! Maybe this is a good opportunity to tell IT off and get IT out my mind, for good. The anger was boiling inside of me now. Maybe I should let it boil out. It's been stuffed in a pressure cooker on the stove in my mind for so long now. So very long. This was my chance.

Then the voice posed the question "Well... are you going to tell me?" I could hear the whistle on the pressure cooker start to blow as IT continued to taunt me.

"Because...because you are just a HORRIBLE thing. A self-centered, evil plotting, maniacal, narcissistic, life ruining....thing!". The whistle on the pressure cooker whistled louder as it boiled hotter and hotter. "I made the mistake of letting you into my mind and then you kidnapped me and forced me into your sick den of illogical reasoning. Then you got me addicted to your oil of darkness. I was fixed to the high it gave me when it entered my veins. You watched as I would writhe in pain waiting for another hit." I don't even want to mention the dark things I saw in that den. "How many times have I woken up in the middle of the night and found you lying next to me whispering your madness into my dreams? How many times have I woken up in the middle of the night and had to chase you out of my mind so you could no longer draw your twisted dreams upon the addicted easel of my mind? You watched me beg and plead for this obsession to end. You would snicker as you upped my dosage." Why did I let him do this to me? "How long have I walked constantly checking over my shoulder, only to run straight into you?” The top on the pressure cooker popped off onto the floor of the kitchen as it started boiling over. “You would hold my hand as you walked me back into my mind through the hallway to that back room, to one of those stashes and you would open the box. You would tell me that it would comfort me. Remember all those times I told you I didn't want this anymore? You just laughed as you introduced me to another guy who could rock my fears to sleep, and another addiction to numb the feelings of dissatisfaction and deep sadness." How did I not see this as it was happening? "You are honored to see me buckle at your presence. You walk with your shoulders raised in confidence, swaying to your own sick twisted version of a victory song, because you know you'll never go hungry as long as you are feasting on my weaknesses. You're mean. You blow the smoke from your egotistical pipe into my eyes..." I am not even angry anymore; I am growing sad, regretful and lonely. "...so you could heartlessly distract me from the good places I was headed. I would become disoriented, and just as you had planned, I would fall into the arms of the nearest thing that would show interest in this beautiful side of me that I had to fake. I had to sell all my good qualities, my strength and anything truly beautiful inside me for another hit, from YOU.” I allow the sadness to flow out of me as I cry my words. "And every time the interested bloke eventually discovered that you held all my goods, and that I was a slave to your oil. He would grow disinterested or would get ripped apart by the starving addict I had become, when he realized I was no longer sane. I would come crawling back to you, into that back room. What else could I do? And there you would be, propped up on a box, percolating." Practically dancing in excitement, you jerk. "I had pushed everyone else away so you were all I had. I would just raise my arm to you and let you go to work, awakening the sores and bruises that had become merely scars. They would become fresh track marks by the time you were through with me. It was what kept you alive. My addiction kept you alive. I don't care if you die. Die and rot in Hell with the devil that sent you."

My hands are still shaking violently. Very violently. I lean against the door, sobbing as I crumple to the floor; my composure now floating out one of the windows in my mind. There was no way I could chase after it now. It was gone. And at this point, I am too. There is silence. The most significant silence I have ever heard. Or not heard. I could no longer even hear my chest heaving up and down. It was a silence I could almost reach out and touch. The voice broke through the silence like a jackhammer. I could almost hear the silence as it shattered all around me.

"I know." The voice was tender. Wait, what? "What?" I am floored with confusion, still sitting amongst the shards and pieces of the silence that had been broken. "I know, Darci." The pieces of silence rattled.

"Darci, why don't you just open the door already? You asked me to come here."

"No, I didn't!" I haven't asked anyone to come here in a long time.

"But you did, several times. But this was the only right time. I came by a few other times, but you didn't answer. Sometimes you were in that back room, in the darkness, other times you were out; out and about from your mind. You didn't hear the knocking. It would have made no difference if you had, though. It wasn't the right time."

I am totally stumped at this point, and I have NO idea what is going on. This HAS to be IT. I must have hit that point of pure insanity. Maybe I drank myself into an alcoholic coma, or maybe I just worked my neurons into a frenzy and I have finally done it....I have finally gone crazy.

All of a sudden a draft blows in through the open space in my mind and I feel it creep towards me on the floor. It’s warm, and comfortable. I am still unwilling to trust anything going on outside the door, outside of my power. So I plant myself harder to the ground against the breeze. That sounds like the ocean. It smells like the ocean too. As if the wave had come through and swept away any will power or defiance, I have no strenthg left. My body is limp and my mind is mush.

"Please. I can't keep doing this! Just tell me who you are!!" That came out as a soft sob.

"Let me in” persists the voice. Okay, I give up.

"Fine then! Come in!" Silence. "I said you can come in." Silence.

"You have to open the door, Darci."

Oh. "Oh." A voice comes echoing down the hallway from my mind; No. This is how you were invaded before, Darci. You can't trust stuff like this. But something about the wind breathing voice poured life through the door and I feel more than compelled to open the door. Plus, I am learning that the thoughts from that back room cannot be trusted.

I put my hands flat on the ground and slowly begin to push my weight upwards. I shudder at how the darkness is looming around me, stalking me; listening to every move I make. I take my time turning around to face the door. All of a sudden, hundreds of thoughts pop out of the darkness in my mind. I see thoughts of hesitation, fear, anger, resentment. I push each and every one of them away with my shaky palm until I have full sight of the door again. Okay. I'm gonna open it. I have to open it right? I mean, this thing isn't going away is it? You're talking to yourself. I am talking to myself. Argh. Whatever is out there can't be worse than the insanity I feel in here. And I can't stay locked up forever. Yeah. That's true. I can't stay locked up here in my mind forever. Okay, let's open it. Here goes nothing...again. The door knob is very cold to my touch. That's odd; it's always so muggy in here. How could the door handle be this col...Focus. My fingers surround the ball shaped doorknob and I notice they are still shaking. I turn the knob. Nothing happens. You locked it genius. Oh yeah. I reach up and turn the lock. It echoes down the empty hallway and dies at the dark back room. Just like everything else in that room. I place my shaky hand back on the shiny knob and turn it.

The door clicks and begins to creak open. From the other side enters the brightest, whitest and strongest light I have ever seen, and it pours into my mind. The magnificent light races down the hallway into the backroom and hesitates for a second at the locked door. Then it breaks through, breaking the door into shreds and slivers of wood. It invades the room and ransacks it clean of any darkness; all the stashes, the hiding places, and the toxic camps IT set up. It all comes flooding out of the room through this ray of light, out the front door. The light breaks down the walls and invites sunlight into the room. I am blinded and my breath is gone. I think it’s locked in my lungs, which are frozen in fear. The light finishes in the dark room, leaving it open, bright and full of fresh air. It rushes down the hall knocking off the horrible pictures of memories that hung on the wall and all the shelves, on which I had placed all my regrets for display. These things also fall through the ray of light and out the front door. The light makes its way into the kitchen and destroys the stove, the fridge and the dining room table where IT and I would feast on the stashes, for days at a time. The walls are knocked open in there too and the sunlight slowly descends upon the empty room and begins to cover it like a blanket.

My eyes are now adjusting to the light and I can feel my breath dripping back into my lungs. Barely. When the light finishes in the kitchen it comes rushing straight at me, but swarms past me to the entry way closet sounding like a speeding freight train. This is where I keep that parade of crippling thoughts that would come swirling around me from time to time. Sometimes I would have to lure that carnival in there and lock the door. They would knock and pound and make all kinds of racket but I wanted them closed out of my mind. IT would often unlock the door and let them out to terrorize me. IT thought that was hilarious; I hated it. The light broke through that door and caught the whole stampede into its ray as they stomped out of the closet past the broken door splinters. As each item of that carnival was sucked into the light, they calmed. The images didn't scream, kick or yell as usual. They were peaceful images as they entered the ray and exited the front door to my mind. The light then swirled around me like a hurricane with such intensity I had to keep myself from falling over. It swished and swirled, hoo-ed and howled as the walls cracked and crashed. And then there was silence. I feel the sunlight begin to fall around where I stand. It feels like a waterfall of feathers as it pours onto my skin. Still silence. The only thing standing is me and the front door. The light begins to howl as it swirls back to the front door. I inch towards the tail of the light as it leaves my mind through the door. The light fades as it is gathered into a hand; a powerful hand. Actually, the most beautiful hand I have ever seen. The last slivers of light make their way through the fingers as it crashes into the palm of the beautiful hand. As that last bit of light evaporates I see a scar on the wrist of this hand.

No way. I slowly open the rest of the door and look at what I have been wrestling with for hours now. Oh, God…my heart stops. You are beautiful. Splendid. Stunning. You didn't give us words to describe You accurately. My hands have stopped shaking but I feel like my heart is going to explode as it leaps into my throat. There is nothing that will give justice to the glory I am face-to-face with. There is light; lots of light. It illuminates all around Him and shines through Him. I work up the courage and I look Him in the eye. It is like looking into the deepest ocean of the bluest water where the biggest icebergs shoot up with towering strength and where the most powerful creatures swim in the churn of the strongest currents. My breath swims into the depths of my lungs again. Oh no, no. No, breath! This is not the time to run and hide. Did you SEE who is at my door? Hearing this thought, He laughed. I nearly fainted at the sound. It was like hearing the most beautiful bird sing a lullaby to the most innocent child who is laughing as they sit among trees that blow in the wind, creating the most intricate symphony.

"Thank you for opening the door." My voice had gotten tangled up in one of my vocal chords at the sound of His laughter. I couldn't talk. I nodded instead. He smiled.

"You know it's time, right?" I nodded again. This time with less enthusiasm.