Alone with yourself

A trip up of experimental, semi 2nd person, horror/physchology writing. Trigger warnings- rape victim is mention, widow is mention (no details)

We've all heard it said that monsters are real. They're inside our heads. The nightmares, the terror, the horror. It all has roots in the truth, all of it nestled deep enough into our reality to instill the skittish reactions to the stories of our childhood.

So, if these monsters are inside of us. Inside of you, inside of me, if they flourish when we are alone, what happens when we are left with ourselves for to long?
Do they breed, and develop into far more vivid imagery?
Or do they come to life?

Is it, that our perceptions merely change, and these terrors have been alive all along?

Do our ears and mind become so attuned to the void and the silence that we simply begin to acknowledge that which we once could not begin to fathom?

The simplicity is unnerving. The concept of being so lost in oneself that we are able to see the true horror all around us.

I heard once, that if you sit in the silence long enough, and listen hard enough, you begin to notice things. But in turn, these things, so foreign in nature begin to notice you.

Is this why, we rely so heavily upon human interaction, our connections to the outside world. Why we sleep beside our cellphones, and religiously log into our social networking sites? Was it established so very long ago in our primal instincts, to resist the life of solitude?

Yes of course, for obvious reasons of safety and food, territory and family life. But why then is even the slightest disconnect so unnerving to us?

Maybe, it is to preserve our sanity through socialization. To keep our minds focused on the “real” world and it's challenges, to keep horrors of the mind at bay.

In our sleeping state of course, there is no human interaction, we are then contained within ourselves as our minds conjure up dreams and nightmares alike. Perhaps a nightmare, is not really as innocent as it may seem. Perhaps it is a turning of a key, in our deepened mental state where we are no longer so aware of the world around us.

A key, that in the process of being turned, unlocks an archway, the theoretical entry point to a land of horrors far beyond our abilities of normal perception. These horrors locked up tight, lest we should give them the chance to spring to life. Maybe that is the reason we seek socialization so desperately. For support and reassuring words telling us that it's all in our heads.

And perhaps to, this is the reason that those genius, brave minds who have the courage to stand alone are so inspiring, and yet so intimidating. Because we know deep down, they have found and endured their terrors. In the wee hours of the night, between their piles of books and mountains of paper, these people have faced the horrors of solitude, they have endured the fear that will arise in the consciousness of the open, and sensitive mind. These people, are so intimidating, because they have somehow found a way to reap the benefits of these terrors. Turning the fear into inspiration and drive. Drive to outrun the Horror. Or perhaps to sate it's rasping voice.

But at what cost?

What kind of torture does the lone weary professor encounter on long nights of grading papers, the mundane task pushing his mind to wander aimlessly within itself. What type of creatures, does he beckon forth unknowingly, from the recessed corners of the void?

He studies his horror.

And what of the grieving young widow?She who has become far to wise of the workings of life, at far to young an age. She who now must stand on her own, even as she retreats within herself, hearing the kind gentle words muttered to hear, as if from far away. Her thoughts expanding with the void of her mind, searching for explanations that she will never find within herself. Her terror torturing her over the could-haves and the should-haves.

She cowers from her horror.

Then what of the rape victim?

The poor soul who has no one to confide in but herself. No one who can understand the full impact but her. She to attempts to conjure up explanations, and ways she could have avoided her plight. She searches for a rhyme or reason that would give her some peace of mind when it comes to mankind. She shelters herself from others and she turns within herself. Her whimpers and cries go unanswered as her nightmares engulf even her waking moments. Her life that passes her by, as she is unable to realize that she is still alive, and in all rights, her plight should make her stronger. She is reduced to a half sleep state, where her grip on the difference between slumber and consciousness slips. She is left vulnerable and without anyone, she succumbs to the terror. Her mind lay wide open as she searches for comfort, and in leaks the horror, bast the battered walls that she can no longer maintain. Without the return of safety to her life, now void of the blissful ignorance that holds so many of us sane, the terror takes hold.

Once it takes hold, she becomes bitter, un-trusting. She embodies her horror.

But now, as you read this, your security blanket is being lifted. You sit there, reading these words and your perspective is changing. You are questioning your view on things. You open your mind to the plausibility of horrors in your life.

You are becoming more aware of yourself as these subjects all turn to you. You are questioning whether you are the professor, the widow or the victim. You are aware of your environment, of how you react to it.

But more importantly, you are aware of your internal thoughts.

You are aware of your steady breathing.

You are aware of your eyes blinking occasionally.

You are aware of the heart that pulses in your chest.

You are aware of the occasional tingle that runs its cold hands up your spine.

You are aware for the goosebumps that accompany it.

You are aware of how it all causes your hair to stand on end, bristling along your arms and up the nape of your neck.

The alert in your mind, as you note the slight movement from the corner of your eye.

And you are aware of the emptiness surrounding you.

You are aware of all these things as your mind evaluates the possibilities. It offers up explanations for the chill and the movement, and for the minute sounds you can barely hear.

Now, as you ponder my words, you are aware of the noises beneath the silence. More and more you notice the movement in the empty shadows. You are now sensing things that aren't really there. Your terrors are manifesting.

To make them leave. You need only stop reading and close your mind. Forget the possibilities that have now been brought to light. Forget the glint of an idea, that little spark of something in the deep recesses there that tells you that you're onto something....

Not that simple, now is it?

Not so simple to close this heightened part of yourself, to lock it back up would be to lose the ability to understand new things, normally just out of your grasp. This is the part of you, that is capable of great feats. The inquisitive side of you. The side that yearns for knowledge, and openly accepts and retains even the most minute details.

It is the side that keeps you reading this. Keeps you locked onto every word. Of course, this is also the side that allows your childhood fears to resurface. You are in the same state of mind, not of the professor, nor the widow, nor even the victim.

You are in the position of the almost victim. You have merely glimpsed the possibilities. Now, be it out of fear, curiosity, or self gain, you are open to every piece of information you can grasp. The possibilities, are all within your minds reach. The information and drive, all coming together cleanly. You are the almost victim, who has learned what to watch for, to prevent yourself from ending up in a far nastier situation than last time.

You are now realizing, that your consciousness, to this point has merely grazed the terrors that could be.

You see...the victim, knows how truly powerful the terror is. They know it's destruction first hand. They know how it effects a persons perspective. But you, are being toyed with. Your terror is merely playing with you, teasing you with a light hand from afar. Allowing you to realize only a fragment of the horror. Allowing you to believe it is truly as weak as it is being portrayed.

Your horror waits. Waits for you to slip up. For your life to give you sight into even the smallest amount of true horror. It waits, waits for that seed to be planted until it breaks free, spilling over out of your imagination, until you perceive it as it truly is. This expansion, gives your nightmares their required foothold in reality. From there, they will latch onto you. They will cultivate as you question their existence. That's all they need, is that tiny spark of true fear. It fills them, their otherworldly forms are given life.

You challenge yourself, to overcome this frightening behemoth, but even as you speculate how, how to destroy it, how to conquer it, you provide it with more life. You bring its features into focus. It's habits become true. It is able to live now, because you have acknowledged it's existence. Now, it's drive and needs flesh out.

By this point, you can imagine its breathe yawning down your neck, even as you try to blame it on a sudden breeze, you now know better. You can hear it shifting and rustling about. Just out of sight. You can see tiny flutters of movement. When you work up the courage to look at it dead on, you see nothing, and you know deep down, you'd given it a chance to hide.

You've brought it to life.. I've told you no horrific tale of generic beasts, coming and snatching the young while they slumber in the dead of night. I've given you no physical description, but you can see it. Your minds eye has a virtual mugshot of your terror, etched into your mind. For as i've already said, you are so open to information in this state, you will forever remember every minute detail.

You know what it wants. But still, you attempt to bear with it's presence, as you see and reach for that spark of enlightenment, there behind this terror that you've conjured up. You can nearly reach it, and in your want for that spark, in your change of perception in which, now your concentration has shifted from the horror around you. You have forgotten something. Something vital to you obtaining that spark. You've recognized the horror, you've noticed it, you perceive it on this realm. You've forgotten to keep in mind...

It can see you now to....

Reviews

[Sara Mercury]

Aside from some formatting, punctuation and simple spelling errors (that even the spell checker won't always correct), I am mystified by this chapter ... truly I am. It is full of very deep thought and is truly the work of a very gifted, deep thinker. I can well relate to this and I find it quite haunting, really.

[Shep]

You raise the question do we see monsters in us or are we the monster waiting to get out. I pounder the posible realities of this and find it true to human nature. But is also true that monster we precive can be tamed or is just contained. What a openning I look forward to reading more.

[vortex]

Great, i like your style of writing.

Outstanding! I can't wait for more!