The Door
When the memories of what happened first began revealing themselves, I thought for sure I was loosing my mind.
I tried to find solace in my writing, but discovered it was also an outlet of what had happened, and that, once opened, the torrent of emotions would threaten to drown me.
I hope I'm not breaking any 'limit' rules for putting this here, but, here goes-
The Door
January/February, 2002
It was a Noble Door. Stout. Made-up of thick, wide oaken timbers, slow-cured over time under the Suns light and warmth. The Door was massive in its Being. Twice the height of a mounted Knight, and wide as a pair of Stallions, standing nose to nose. Entrenched within the convoluted mountainside of my mind, in bedrock as deep as my Soul.
After the first torment, the workers pace was frantic, and even as the huge wrought iron bindings were forged and fitted around the thick beams, the quarrying was nearly complete. As the interior was chiseled, rasped, and shaved smooth, the door was bound tight within the Iron, and made whole. Seamless in its assembly, it was coated with oils and pitch, to withstand the ravages of Time. Etchings of Love, Hope, and Patience had been gilded across its surface, to further its durability. It was carefully and tenderly set against its hinges, and the giant pins of metal were pounded into the grooves, holding it fast in its frame
The memories of the assaults, of the pain, embarrassment, humiliation, and shame were forced into the chamber, and the Door slammed fast! A strong cross-piece was dropped into place, and the blacksmith pounded the red-hot pins into their seats, sealing the assembly; forever, it was thought
From within, the Demons of Abuse, Pain, Rape, and Torture howled-out their frustration, denied the pleasures of the torments they would visit upon my Soul. For years their efforts were muted, barely heard save in the deepest, darkest nightmares, an uneasy sleep all that could be recalled upon waking
Yet their perseverance is infinite, these Demons, and their ambitions unwavering. Their efforts continued, their sharp, long talons, and wickedly serrated teeth scoring at the wood of the Door, etching and chewing away at its Constitution. The metal, once new and gleaming black, now showed the rust of Time. Under their constant barrage, the faintest movement of once-bound pieces began to show as the pounding and clawing continued
The Demons howled in glee, their hunger intense, and their efforts doubled as the weakness of their prison was realized!
It was a simple thing. A touch. During a moment of Love, between two Beings whose Lives were Bonded in all ways, at every level. The contact, first met with a gasp of pleasure and reaction of euphoria, was immediately countered by the shattering of the Door as it was torn from its mounting, the wood splintered and the iron bent outward with the power of the Demons, now freed!
They run, now, unhindered, through the corridors of my mind, reaving, tearing, soiling all that was once well and hale! There is no escape, nowhere to hide from their elated cries of Freedom, and the torments of the Past are theirs to show, at every avenue I turn towards, at every blink of mine eyes as I try in vain to shut-out the horrible visages
My Life is halted. Years of effort and patience now brought to a hobbled stop. The Demons ploy to revisit each and every horror, magnified by the many long years they were kept quiet, my constant companion in Life, now.
Ah, what a Fool I have been, to try and hide from the Past Injuries, thinking they would one Day die, and turn to dust. That the Door could then be opened, and their ashes blown away in the cleansing Winds
Now, I kneel, shaking, trembling, before the once mighty Door, one hand grasping a torn and curled piece of Iron, the strength of my grip slicing my own hide, the blood running-down my arm, then body, pooling at my knees as I weep.
The Demons gather round me, their crimson eyes bright and shining in the darkness of my Soul, their smiles broad, at the nearness of their quarry, sensing the weakness of its Fight to keep them at bay.
I live, if such can be called living. I seek help, knowing I cannot win this Battle alone
The Dr.s, some of them kind, and well-spoken. Other Doctors, disinterested, judgmental, derogatory, insulting, withholding the healing and support expected from them. Casting me away from the very help I so desperately need.
I kneel, weeping, not knowing what to do, not trusting mine-own instincts, my thoughts and emotions a tangled weave.
The Door is now torn asunder. I realize Ive become a prisoner of my own making, and I shut my eyes to the horror, feeling the hot reek of the Demons breath against my bare skin as they close, the screech of their claws against the stone, the *SNAPPING* of their teeth as they savor their apparent victory
I kneel, bereaved, looking toward the faint pin-prick of Light in my Soul, beckoning me, telling me to hold-on, that help is on the way, that all is not lost, praying it is not yet another trick of the malicious Demons, drawing-out the torment to its final moment.
Whicker
I tried to find solace in my writing, but discovered it was also an outlet of what had happened, and that, once opened, the torrent of emotions would threaten to drown me.
I hope I'm not breaking any 'limit' rules for putting this here, but, here goes-
The Door
January/February, 2002
It was a Noble Door. Stout. Made-up of thick, wide oaken timbers, slow-cured over time under the Suns light and warmth. The Door was massive in its Being. Twice the height of a mounted Knight, and wide as a pair of Stallions, standing nose to nose. Entrenched within the convoluted mountainside of my mind, in bedrock as deep as my Soul.
After the first torment, the workers pace was frantic, and even as the huge wrought iron bindings were forged and fitted around the thick beams, the quarrying was nearly complete. As the interior was chiseled, rasped, and shaved smooth, the door was bound tight within the Iron, and made whole. Seamless in its assembly, it was coated with oils and pitch, to withstand the ravages of Time. Etchings of Love, Hope, and Patience had been gilded across its surface, to further its durability. It was carefully and tenderly set against its hinges, and the giant pins of metal were pounded into the grooves, holding it fast in its frame
The memories of the assaults, of the pain, embarrassment, humiliation, and shame were forced into the chamber, and the Door slammed fast! A strong cross-piece was dropped into place, and the blacksmith pounded the red-hot pins into their seats, sealing the assembly; forever, it was thought
From within, the Demons of Abuse, Pain, Rape, and Torture howled-out their frustration, denied the pleasures of the torments they would visit upon my Soul. For years their efforts were muted, barely heard save in the deepest, darkest nightmares, an uneasy sleep all that could be recalled upon waking
Yet their perseverance is infinite, these Demons, and their ambitions unwavering. Their efforts continued, their sharp, long talons, and wickedly serrated teeth scoring at the wood of the Door, etching and chewing away at its Constitution. The metal, once new and gleaming black, now showed the rust of Time. Under their constant barrage, the faintest movement of once-bound pieces began to show as the pounding and clawing continued
The Demons howled in glee, their hunger intense, and their efforts doubled as the weakness of their prison was realized!
It was a simple thing. A touch. During a moment of Love, between two Beings whose Lives were Bonded in all ways, at every level. The contact, first met with a gasp of pleasure and reaction of euphoria, was immediately countered by the shattering of the Door as it was torn from its mounting, the wood splintered and the iron bent outward with the power of the Demons, now freed!
They run, now, unhindered, through the corridors of my mind, reaving, tearing, soiling all that was once well and hale! There is no escape, nowhere to hide from their elated cries of Freedom, and the torments of the Past are theirs to show, at every avenue I turn towards, at every blink of mine eyes as I try in vain to shut-out the horrible visages
My Life is halted. Years of effort and patience now brought to a hobbled stop. The Demons ploy to revisit each and every horror, magnified by the many long years they were kept quiet, my constant companion in Life, now.
Ah, what a Fool I have been, to try and hide from the Past Injuries, thinking they would one Day die, and turn to dust. That the Door could then be opened, and their ashes blown away in the cleansing Winds
Now, I kneel, shaking, trembling, before the once mighty Door, one hand grasping a torn and curled piece of Iron, the strength of my grip slicing my own hide, the blood running-down my arm, then body, pooling at my knees as I weep.
The Demons gather round me, their crimson eyes bright and shining in the darkness of my Soul, their smiles broad, at the nearness of their quarry, sensing the weakness of its Fight to keep them at bay.
I live, if such can be called living. I seek help, knowing I cannot win this Battle alone
The Dr.s, some of them kind, and well-spoken. Other Doctors, disinterested, judgmental, derogatory, insulting, withholding the healing and support expected from them. Casting me away from the very help I so desperately need.
I kneel, weeping, not knowing what to do, not trusting mine-own instincts, my thoughts and emotions a tangled weave.
The Door is now torn asunder. I realize Ive become a prisoner of my own making, and I shut my eyes to the horror, feeling the hot reek of the Demons breath against my bare skin as they close, the screech of their claws against the stone, the *SNAPPING* of their teeth as they savor their apparent victory
I kneel, bereaved, looking toward the faint pin-prick of Light in my Soul, beckoning me, telling me to hold-on, that help is on the way, that all is not lost, praying it is not yet another trick of the malicious Demons, drawing-out the torment to its final moment.
Whicker
