Rebirth

My world’s axis had shifted drastically by that point.

         I could try for days to possibly hope to understand these things, but the chances were so slim that I knew the cause would only be lost in the end. Their lips were still at my ears, pale and chapped and perfectly deceitful. Pushing me forward and pulling me back, my body was no longer mine. The grasp I had on my mind was loosening at a pace so aggravating that I wanted to end it all on my own. I would have, let me tell you, if I’d had the ability.

         The day I remember was not unlike any other. Driving carelessly, as always, to a job I would hate for eternity. But then I saw her, heard her unmistakable, clear whispers from what seemed so far away. That day I veered off the road to avoid the beautiful creature, the woman whose skin lacked pigment, whose lips never moved when she spoke. Hello. It was all she said, but that was all it took. The words were in my ears, and at that point, I was seduced. My thoughts were hers to misuse, and from then on she would not hesitate to do so. At that point, though, I would never stop her from it.

         All I could remember was her, and them. My memories would not come to me at my bidding. I felt only laughter, expressed it at all the wrong moments. I recognized vulnerability and stability, bent both so that they would work to my advantage. Oh, how flawlessly this process worked! Lying and cheating, uncaring what any other person thought of me, I could not be stopped. But alas, I could never live in such a way if I wanted any sort of redemption, any sort of contentment or order. And so I would rebel, rebel against my mind. I could not be driven by my thoughts or anything seemingly logical. My emotions were all I had. This, I suppose, is where my tale truly begins.

         Leaving my home, I was greeted with bitter cold winds. The night was a deep shade of violet, inhabited by stars that danced and flickered freely above the earth. I strolled down my street, looking into windows and imagining how these people lived, how they could be so at peace. I heard them speaking to me softly, attempting to direct me, to steer me in another direction. I disregarded their pitiful moans and pushed forward, away from any sort of temptation that I knew I would encounter if I acknowledged her agitated sigh. I thought of nothing, I felt nothing. I only somehow made my muscles move in such a way that I slowly but surely progressed toward a sanctuary, a place where my mind could be at peace.

         And finally, I stood before a great building. A building constructed of stone, made by the hands and sweat of man alone. I never believed, not ever had I previously given the place a second glance. I’d even scoffed at the idea. But now, this was where I needed to be. This was my one chance to redeem myself. Again I moved, strode toward the massive doors before me. My fingers curled themselves around the intricately carved handle. Their words were louder now, screaming at me, ordering me away from the place. I wanted to succumb to their strength, to listen to the words they spit through their teeth. No—no, my mind wanted to. Driven by malice, unwilling to lose the last of my humanity, I pulled open the door.

         The voices silenced. There was nothing more in my mind, only my individual thoughts. I moved myself, lightly, easily. The muscles under my skin expanded and contracted at my command. I gazed at the walls that stood high over me, windows with colors that cast bright hues on the ground beneath my feet. My eyes wandered around the impressive cathedral, falling on figures of a man slowly dying, on a series of long, wooden benches, on an assortment of large candles flaring, throwing dark shadows around the room. I heard a voice.

         “Hello,” she whispered. I lifted my eyes to find a face that matched her voice, warm and sweet, a reminiscence of days spent happily, spent at home. Her eyes were glowing and like liquid honey, her complexion the same in the dim light. She moved toward me carefully, an inquisitive look possessing her perfectly sculpted face. I felt her hand delicately touching my shoulder, felt her eyes, filled with worry, watching me. Hair, fine and dark, fell into her face. She was real, tangible; she was there. I knew, then, that I would recover. I knew I would finally drive out the demons that once dictated my mind. I would do it. I would do it with the help of her soul.

         Thank you. It was all I thought. She smiled then, sincere and kind, and it was as if she had heard the words leave my lips.