Death, Doubt, Depression, Destruction, Denial, Disease, Deceit, Distractions, Darkness.

They wrapped their arms around me, tearing, pulling, stretching, ripping. I was fed to them like meat to vicious hounds. Constantly being torn apart for 18 years, and yet I could not realize. I would not realize.

Denial’s hands had twisted it’s fingers to cover my eyes, my ears, my very mouth. It blinded me, fed poison through my ears, and the arsenic flowed freely from my lips.

Doubt tore at my mind, consuming it into the open sore on an almost invisible visage.

Depression reached to my chest, grabbing at my very heart and opening it for all the world to see. It wanted pity, pity for my well-being as it slowly devoured my heart. What irony. I could not help, but pity depression itself for eating such a useless and unfavourable item.

And there it came. Self pity, pain, loneliness. Depression had done it’s job, taken it’s slow and tedious course, yet it did not change like the others. It still acted as a lost puppy, homeless, alone, pitiful. I began finding a desire within me to care for it, nurture it, give it a place to stay. I welcomed such a deceitful creature. This became my distraction.

All things were deceiving, for doubt and denial had allowed them to be. Doubt destroyed certain senses needed to understand cautiousness, especially around distractions and lies. I was in the dark, and it ruined my reasoning, played with my beliefs. Damaged my ability to seek for what I really desired, and needed in life.

Destruction was just around the corner, waiting to take a hold. It attacked me from the front, head on and without fear. It consumed me, became my very being right to the core, and I became it’s puppet. I was silently being led towards disease and death. Both were waiting for me, rubbing their many hands together in anticipation. They would not be quick in their craft. They had to toy with me first; break my spirit until I begged for endless silence.

But I was restless, and fought. There was this light that found me. A smile somewhere off in the distance. A breath of fresh air. Love. Friends, family in need. Someone was helping, and yet had no idea.

God was there, touched my very skin and doubt began to fall away. Hope entered, replacing the feeling of never will. There was still a chance. I could see again, realization swept over me, and darkness disappeared.

I had found my true path. Distractions flitted back from where they came, and I could not deny that destruction had found me. At that point I was able to turn my body away. I would not let disease overcome me, I could not give into death, just yet. I had time, and people to care about, a life to care about.

Running, back to depression, I was determined to gain my second chance. Instead I found a puddle, and there deep inside almost hidden from the naked eye, I sought out my heart. I fished, for it, dried it off, and viewed the damage done. There God was still beside me asking of me that ruined piece. I obeyed giving it willingly.

Holding it close to his heart, he healed it until there were only scars left, so I could remember, He said. Here and now I understand I could not forget this. God kept my heart stored in his cloak for safe-keeping. I knew he would cherish it as He always had, even when He did not have it.

Then He spoke to me with sweet words of wisdom “Even though evil spirits come and go, they never fully disappear. But now that I am here with you, and you have allowed me to be with you, there is nothing to fear. Have faith my child and stay close. Your time has come.”

My toothbrush sweeps the crumbs of eternity out of the crevices of my teeth. He sweeps forever against the surface stains, yet cannot penetrate them. I hear his quiet cursing from the dark, damp gymnasium. I know he’s been drinking the Listerine he uses to wash the enamel and I don’t blame him.

I could use a battery powered tooth brush, but they’re just robots really. Sure they replace the staff of old, but the drone of them makes my teeth chatter and shatter, I choose the old fashioned mode. Row after row, morning and night, disfigured by the pressures of the job, my toothbrush sweeps on.

One night I heard his sobbing and I knew he knew it was the end. He had pulled some of his own bristles out in one last self-destructive cry for help. So early one morning, I retired him to the paint supply shelf. Now he dips his fingers into all the colours of the rainbow. Now he adds a certain texture to a canvas, as only an old toothbrush can.

You idiot. You actual idiot. Why must you make them so mad and make our family so depressed? Why must you push every button until our father sits there, silent? Oh brother, why do I have to be the perfect child? Why do I have to hold up this family's happiness on my aching shoulders? How can you live life without care? How can their sadness not bother you? Oh brother, you are an idiot, a careless idiot. Oh brother, you are free.