The Hole

You came to me in a whisper,
Like a stranger, yet so familiar
My heart pounds louder and louder
Into my head; deeper and deeper
Your voice I seem to know;
I’ve heard it once before
From you I’ve turned away
Yet you came to me today
In your presence; I’m awed-stricken
My body weakens
I feel myself fall into your embrace
I look up and see your face
It shone in deeper ambience
How could I have endured your absence?
My eyes cloud into a torrential downpour
I feel emptied right down to my core
Faceless and impure;
I didn’t know who I was anymore
Reality sweeps me over
All I wanted was to be like you
So here in your cover
My new skin breaks through
My old self dies as you take me into the skies….
I remember you coming to me in a whisper
Ah, yes, but yesterday seems distant;
Today I’m different
I’m becoming You.

-Anonymous

**************************************************

Silence.
Her senses were numb from hearing herself breathe.

Starless.
Nothing spectacular. It was almost a blank canvas. Emptiness was pretty much the everyday-state of her soul. The sky was murky, empty. At least, it WOULD have been, if it weren’t for the sudden stage entrance of the….

Full moon.
Shining through every rut and fissure. The trees outside seemed ghostlike - casting awkward silhouettes on the ground before them. Shadows began to loom overhead, running through her room.

But, what’s that? There, in the corner. She hadn’t seen it there before. WAS it there before? She couldn’t be sure. She sat up and leaning forward, began peering into the darkness. It was like clawing her way out of a grave. When her eyes finally got accustomed to the obscurity - she saw it. A clump of blackness, but it was something. What it was, she could hardly tell. It just crouched there, poised for a kill almost, and just waiting…waiting…

She screamed.

After a few hour-long seconds, the lights flicked on and her parents scrambled in. She blinked a couple of times and realized that the “thing” had disappeared as quickly as the light had come on. “What? What is it, dear?” her father asked, panting. “It’s – It’s gone,” she shrugged, glancing at the corner of her room.
“Now, now, honey,” her mother began, “whatever you saw a moment ago, it’s gone now. You should get some sleep, dear. You’re not well.” Her mother tucked her in, and her parents turned to leave.

Lights off. Instant darkness.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she kept repeating to herself, “There’s nothing there. Go to sleep. There’s nothing there. Go to…” What’s that? She heard heavy-breathing. Her heart began to race. Was it her, who was inhaling and exhaling air, in such desperate gulps? The slow realization seeped into her. She’d held her breath all this while. She whimpered in fear – and the breathing suddenly stopped. Did it notice her? What, on dreaded earth, was in her room? “Please..,” she sobbed, “don’t hurt me…”

“Isus…,” it called, in a silvery sing-song whisper that echoed of little bells.

She stopped crying. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up straight. This thing was a girl. And this girl - knew her name.

**************************************************

In a neighboring room, Isus’ parents sat by a warm fire. The flickering, dim amber glow that it cast through every inch of the quarters was somewhat comforting to some extent. “Delirium is an expected symptom at the state she’s in, dear,” Isus’ father reasoned. “I know, bu – but, is there nothing at all we can do?” her sobbing mother protested helplessly. “I’m afraid….not, dear,” replied her father, choking in a sob.

They embraced. Now, they would have to rely on the little strength they had left to get them through this most difficult time. Silent in the arms of her counterpart, Isus’ mother wept freely for her only daughter.

“Isus….”

**************************************************

“Isus…”

Bells. She was calling her again. Isus was strangely, unafraid anymore. There was something vaguely familiar about that voice. “Can I see you?” Isus whispered her request into the darkness before her. Obediently, the shadow rose from her corner and approached Isus’ bed. Isus gasps as the moonlight revealed her visitor’s identity.

“B-but...you’re me!”

Her mirror-image giggled, and Isus heard the bells again. “Where do you come from?” she asked her replica.

“The Hole…” the shadow replied, pointing at the corner from which she emerged.

But, my! What a sight met their eyes just then. It was no longer the dark, warped abyss it was, a few minutes before. Isus saw a myriad of colors, shining through that little gap at the corner of her room.
Curious as she was, she asked, “Why do you sound of bells?” The smiling shadow shrugged, took off her bracelet of bells and handed it to her. “What do you want?” Isus whispered, gazing at her new treasure.

Her mirror-image chuckled, emitting the same little tinkle of bells, and answered,

“You.”

Isus smiled and vanished.

**************************************************

And just like that, the promising serenity of the aging night was broken. A piercing scream stirred the inhabitants of Oakworth from their deep slumber that night. A distraught mother, sat in the corner of her little girl’s room, clutching tight to the bluing, immobile body of her 9-year-old, Isus; whilst the saddened father, hands folded, stared out into the cold, empty night sky.

“My Isus…, My dear, dear Isus…”

But, no matter how loudly they called her name,

“Isus…”

No matter how hard they tried,

“ISUS…!”

She didn’t come back.

And she never will.

The only witness of the incident, laid motionless, forlorn. Even right then, it silently observed the mourners, as they cried and yelled out in frustration; as they mouthed out strings of words – that meant nothing, and as they melted into puddles of insecurity. Yes, the little silver bracelet of bells around Isus’ tiny, limp wrist saw everything. But no one cared to notice.

**************************************************

“Isus…” Bells.

“Play with me!” Her new playmate called to her.

“Okay, but you’re ‘It’ this time!” Isus yelled back, turning to run.

Smiles, chuckles, squeals,

Bells.

**************************************************
A tribute to children, who lived, only to be taken away.