Finals Week and “A Familiar Place”

School sure does love getting in the way of things, doesn’t it? Well, finals week is finally here and things are finally starting to slow down with the end of classes, so I am able to post my next short story!

This one is one of my personal favorites and I’m super excited to share it with you! I wrote it while in the middle of a pretty low depression episode, so it’s a bit dark. Literally. My dad, who also suffers from depression, told me that this piece finally put a description to what he feels and said I did a great job! I love it when I’m praised by my parents, even if I’m in my 20s.

So here it is, I hope you all enjoy it!

A Familiar Place

Sometimes, the most familiar place is the one that only you can visit. A place only you are familiar with because only you go there. Everyone has their own versions of course, but you cannot know them because you cannot visit them. Just like they can’t come to mine. What is this place? It is the mind.

Darkness fills my mind, my castle. The once bright colors are now muted to a grey and black hue on everything that lines the walls and clutters the floor. The doors are closed, vainly trying to protect their precious contents, their precious memories. Some of them have already been breached. The darkness corrupted them and stole their color, their light, their life. The memories became so twisted that they could no longer be recognizable. Like that one, it used to be a happy time where I was first in school after so long. I was so excited. A young, naive teenager. Now look, all you can see is the one, tiny mishap that evolved into years of torment. It’s still going strong, its power influencing all of the memories around it. That one? I was so pure, so innocent. Just a simple question, a simple curiosity. Now it is consuming, engulfing, and dangerous. It feeds the darkness, allowing it to grow in strides and bursts. These are just a couple of so many examples. So much darkness. So much corruption.

If we go deeper, the darkness seems to grow, thicken, and suffocate. Tread carefully – one false step and you could become lost. I have many times, and I learned it is very hard to get back out. The windows don’t help. Their curtains block out all light, all scenery. I can never use them for direction or fresh air. I’ve tried many times to open them, but the darkness keeps them shut tight.

The darkness loves to throw things into the hallways, making me trip and stumble with every step. These items have meaning; most of them are from those corrupted rooms. They remind me of every mistake I have made, every flaw, every crack. Most of them started so small, almost unnoticeable, but the darkness twisted and enlarged them into monstrous shapes that torment me endlessly. We must walk slowly if we want to make it through unscathed.

Now, it is so dark here that not a single prick of light can be seen. Don’t bother waving your hand in front of your face, it’s no use. You won’t see anything. Can you feel the darkness surrounding you like a cloak? I always feel it nestle itself all over my body, weighing me down. It fills my mouth and throat, making it difficult to breathe. It clamps my arms to my sides, making it difficult to move. It brushes against my face, causing me to shut my eyes tight and shrink away. But I cannot shrink away. It’s all around me, all around you. There is just one vital difference…

You can leave.

I invited you here, but you do not have to stay. You can leave this place, this strange, cold, unfeeling place. But I cannot. The darkness consumes me, controls me in so many ways, and no matter how hard I want, dream, wish, I cannot leave. I am forever trapped here. Trapped with this darkness that I am so familiar with. I suggest you leave while you still can; follow our footprints. Don’t touch anything, don’t interact, don’t acknowledge. I would hate for you to take this darkness back home with you, allowing it to corrupt your familiar place.

The most familiar place we can have is our mind, our consciousness. No one can ever see it, nor physically visit. We can only hope to describe it to curious others, and even then, we can only scratch the surface. Just like the glimpse I gave you. The small, tiny piece of a much larger maze of rooms and hallways.