An Appropriate Amount of Torture

She was free as effervescent energy, bubbling over in her body, spilling like a spiritual mess into the earth. These were days of the past when delusion struck a chord, maybe even sung a song, deep inside the music hidden in her blood. There was a great aching that slept underneath the warm blanket that was her heart, something she was aware of. But it was easier back then to keep it sleeping. Ignorance and hope were the pills she had to feed it to keep it from waking.

Day after day of slipping the pills into the mouth of this monster was tiresome. She had wanted to kill it, but did not even make an attempt because she knew how powerful the beast was. Just watching it breathe while sleeping was enough to make her fear for her life. One day her exhaustion and anger convinced her to give up. She did not want to feed it pills anymore. She thought that if she pretended it didn't exist, it would disappear. When it woke up she looked it in the eye for only a second. A vista of images flew through her mind like a movie reel in fast forward. She was the star of the show. Visual displays of violence seemed to cauterize bleeding emotions. Memories of guilt and manipulation from a secret childhood were like grotesque toddlers with knives for feet, dancing maniacally on her brain.

The monster, in all of its self-pity, began to lash out on the girl. But this aching could not kill her, knowing that she was the reason it was at peace for so long. So it maintained what it thought to be an appropriate amount of torture. A mother to her pain, she tried to understand it. Tired from the battle, she fell to the ground into a deep sleep. The years brought many storms to the mountains where the monster lives. Nature had taken care of her the only way it knew how, covering her in blankets made of wind, fire, snow and rain. Now a hidden fossil, she remains unseen and undiscovered imbedded in the rock.