demon eyes

Neighborhood parties were always such a joy for those who had a palate for gossip. It's the height of summer. It's hot. The popsicles are melting. And I want some vanilla cake, not chocolate. The kids are playing hide and seek. The teenagers are stroking each other in ways that are kinda weird. The parents are so subtly bragging about their child getting high honors for the third trimester in a row while sipping their $10 pinot grigio. I'm looking for cake.

I didn't want to play with the other kids. They're boring. I wanted to look at the insects and bugs. I wanted to sit in the grass... eat some cake and lick some melting popsicles. Honestly, I wanted to read a book by myself at home. But darling mother didn't want me to be at home by myself because I needed to learn how to be social. I needed to learn how to have fun. I needed to be with people because being by yourself is not good. Why? I don't know. What I like to do is boring... apparently?

I finally got away from the chaos that is prepubescence with my cake in hand. Success! But before I could have my cake and eat it too, a tall shadow loomed before me and stopped me in my tracks. I looked up and saw the kindest face beaming down at me. He had wrinkles coming out of the sides of his eyes and bright, gleaming teeth protruding his lips in a big smile. He bent down ever so slightly, and looked deeply into my face. He inquisitively studied my eyes and told me kindly, "Your eyes are pitch black... You know, girls with black eyes are the children of demons." The smile froze and became as still as ice. His smile didn't die, but it didn't live either. Six years old is not a good age for self-actualization... I just wanted to eat some cake.

I have alway been heavy and dark, plagued by my self. Was this darkness within me always because someone gave me darkness or because this darkness was always within me?

The darkness never went away. It was in me wherever I went, and whenever I tried to push it away, it followed me closely. To the point where the darkness whispered it's names to me in my sleep. If the darkness wasn't inside me, it was hovering over me or sitting on the end of my bed. It accompanied me to class and tucked me in at night.

I just wanted to be good. Good enough for my family and neighbors. Good enough for myself. Not because good is what I was not, but because good was all I could ever be. Be the light in everyone's eyes.

But then, everyone wants you to be whatever they want you to be. For their own needs, wants, desires, objectives...

I notice when people think that your thoughts are unique enough, they don't tend to talk to you much. Only when they need you. I don't want to be needed anymore. I don't want to be good enough for them.

Tough lessons had to be learned - not only do people want you to be weak, they want to hate you for it too.

Never again.