It feels like worry, like panic, all because of the way my brain was stirred when I couldn’t sleep. Sand kept creeping up. Just a giant-ass desert in the part of my fantasy that had rolling, grassy hills. For days I’ve been tugging at her dress, pulling on her arm, telling her…
“You’re digging in the dirt.”
She was kicking the sand around, making trenches with her feet. She was on her knees, sifting through an ugly orange color with my hands.
This is the part of my story where I tell Faith to snap out of it.
Do you remember? You used to be a queen. Not just of this vacant place and however it looked a long time ago. We need you back.
The words, the words of the angel in the cloud, were planted in her heart like a seed. Over the years, she watered that seed and cared for it, nourished it, and allowed it to grow into her life’s obsession. Now, a quarter of a century later, her journey was nearing its end…
This is really going on while you’re bleeding in the sandbox, pulling up amateur-looking websites and embarrassing He-Man fan fiction by some asshole who left you neurologically affected by his words.
Do you get that, yet? That you weren’t supposed to feel like this for ten years or ten minutes? Missing someone after they’ve said hello, being unable to say goodbye, constantly analyzing every threat he made to something that should never have been your responsibility – as a teenager, young adult or woman – to relieve?
The desert is not your fault.
This sphere of light was now a portal between the nightmare world of his current existence, and a magical world beyond the stretch of his wildest imagination. It wasn’t the beauty of this place drawing him in, but rather the promise it offered of a new beginning, a new opportunity to wrap his bony fingers around it and crush it,
and for all.
Faith closed her eyes and the feathers began to molt away, flying freely before sparking to a crisp in the wind.
The drama, the awful sense of doom, the proven pattern of abandonment and rejection… This is not how things should be. The learned anxiety has affected your mental health.
Some memories are real, even though they are no longer the truth.
There are a million accessible times and places in my world.
It’s time to get out of this one.