The Unknown Origin
It was on the first month of the year that she found herself sitting on the corner of her room, feeling her heart pound to the sounds of deafening silence. She had isolated herself and life has left her with two things: a knife on her right hand and bleeding wounds on her left wrist. This moment is where she is most desperate to find the panacea to all her dilemmas, where she badly wants to destroy the pain embracing her. A thought broke the emptiness, and she recognized a solution hearing the voices within.
“Get inside your head and put an end to it. Finish what dishevels you. This will all be over. Your nemesis is waiting.”
She closes her eyes and lets herself be driven to the deepest of her subconscious. It was an overwhelming flight and she has seen what she never has, heard what she never heard, felt was she never felt and now she knew more than she thought possible. Right there. Right in that beautiful, baffling place. She has reached the insides of her own mind.
Then there’s that voice, that familiar voice that awakened her and has put her here.
“Get inside your head and put an end to it. Finish what dishevels you. This will all be over. Your nemesis is waiting.”
She then walks to what seems like woods untouched by the light of day. Images and voices of trauma have been following her, and that’s when she knew that it would take more than great courage and sacrifice to end the predicaments she has been accustomed to. She has seen things of great wonder, like the hands of the people that wanted to save her, the hands she never grabbed. They were trapped behind, guarded by a silhouette that calls itself ‘The Unheeding Pessimism’. She came running then, terrified of the unprecedented monstrous environment she knew very little of. Then it was heard. That voice.
“Get inside your head and put an end to it. Finish what dishevels you. This will all be over. Your nemesis is waiting.”
Just after it has stopped resounding, she has seen a lady ruling over a fall of tears, blood and unnoticed perspiration. It was the most acquainted being she knows. Its eyes were sharp. Its lingering hands were scarred. It formed a shadow of a woman, and yet it was only darkness in the form of thoughts. It stood right in front of her, turns the corners of its mouth to a smile inherited from demons. Then it looked at her straight in the eye, as if having the want to devour her soul, stopped smiling and says, “Here stands your greatest nemesis.”
It was her.