A Child No More

A monologue. Please be aware of potential triggers for mental health-related content.

I guess it’s just us now. You and me. Just like old times. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Maybe ten years since we’ve really been together like this? I must say, I’ve been better off without you. The liberation, oh the exultation I felt when I forced you out of my life was utterly indescribable. I should have known it wouldn’t be forever; how could it be? You are as much a part of me as I am of you.

I’ve sensed you, you know? I’ve felt you creep into my Thoughts, dribbling your poison into the cracks and crevices of my Mind. It wasn’t until just now that I realised that it was your Thoughts that gnawed at me, whispering to me; your malicious smile coaxing me into the seemingly inescapable darkness. It was your talons that clawed at me, dragging me down. It was you, Loneliness, taunting me into the shadows, into the only thing we ever knew: isolation, loneliness. We were alone, and that’s just how you liked it: alone, together.

You held me captive, tortured me. Your talons tore at me; your words sliced through me, puncturing through my Soul, destroying my Innocence. You had me trapped, within the wounds of my own Soul. The gash, it trickled, trickled. I can still hear it dripping, my Innocence, as it seeped from within; you thrived off the sight of it pooling around me. Drip. Drip. I can hear the sound echoing through my hollow corpse. Ten years ago, but a child no more. No longer naïve, no longer careless; nothing but the broken remains of a fractured Soul. It’s like I was invisible to you, crumpled and collapsed before you. But I was praying. Begging. To be heard, to be seen, to piece back together these fragments of my Soul once more. But your words pierced even deeper into the wound, convincing me of my worthlessness. It was that poison infecting the gash that fed the stream, draining any last remnant of Innocence. Drip. Drip. I was nothing but a corpse of lost Joy, broken Hope. A child no more.

But you, Hatred, you were much easier to find. I know it was you suffocating my Mind, caressing my Thoughts with your toxic tendrils, strangling my Soul; you tainted them, painted them until they were nothing but a reflection of you. I could see you swirling in the irises of my eyes as I stared into the mirror. I could feel you squeeze my heart and poison my Veins with Disgust as my eyes roamed over my Body. I felt you control my movements as I’d strike myself, again and again, perpetually unsatisfied by my Body. You silenced my Happiness, hushed my Reasoning and killed my Love. I had nothing, NOTHING, left. I almost died trying to rid myself of you; I was so god damn tired but I knew I had to disentangle you from my Soul and banish you from my Thoughts. Much longer and I wouldn’t have been able to distinguish my own features from yours.

I guess it didn’t work though, did it? That wall that I thought I built? Here I was thinking I was capable, that it worked. I should have known better. It was you that had me trapped, where I could only exist within the confinement of the perimeters set by you both. I could almost laugh at how foolish I feel. I mean, it’s so obvious now. Very clever, when I think about it. Create this illusion that I’m free, finally liberated from your imprisonment, but slowly, very slowly, bring those walls back in. Gently, cautiously reacquaint yourself with my Mind and befriend my Thoughts. Carefully break the impression of a healing Soul. So subtle. I was almost convinced that I was overcoming you both. And I know what you’re going to say, that I was stupid, that I should have known better. I guess you’re right.

I just can’t seem to describe my disappointment, though. Disappointment that I’m here again, with you both; disappointment that I actually believed that I’d done it; I thought I’d successfully detoxified my Soul and Mind. All my efforts to restore my Innocence but the damage was irreversible, the loss irreplaceable. The victory is yours.

I guess I almost feel relief. I’ve come to realise that no matter how hard I try, when I think about that little girl you broke, the Soul that you relentlessly tormented until all that remained were shattered pieces scattered: unfixable. Not a trace of Innocence, Naivety, Joy; all of those efforts to restore my faith in the image in the mirror were useless. All that I see is a hollow creature, a host to the Hatred that courses through my veins, pulsing beneath the skin; no more than a victim to the suffocating darkness cast by Loneliness that perpetually shields me from the light of Hope and Freedom. Congratulations, you win. I am yours. Broken. A child no more.