You awaken, not on the liner we were on not even moments prior, but face down in the middle of a field. Lifting your head from the ground, and spitting dirt on the ground near you, you see nothing but tall grass blocking your vision. Pushing a small patch of the overgrown foliage out of your way, you see that you are indeed lost. Lost in a seemingly never ending forest, at least, in your eyes. You look around momentarily within the small circle that you're sitting in, and see that I am not there with you.
But I am always with you.
Your mind puts itself at ease, knowing that that I cannot physically interact with you at this point in time. Happiness even, begins to flow through your veins, the first time you've felt a positive emotion since we began this journey. Saddening, isn't it? That something so insignificant as my physical presence beside you, or lack thereof, can trigger such an intense emotional sensation. You are however, merely you, and there's nothing I can change about that fact, even if I were to care enough to want to.
No one cares about you.
Standing up, slowly reaching your feet, you begin to realize that you can see over the grass, something that must've seemed impossible to you while you were lying down, huh? Over the grass, you can see far off, into the horizon. No trees exist to block your view, and the path is clearly laid out in front of you. Marked with a straight line, where the grass isn't as congested. You can see the area containing less grass stretches as far as the horizon. Now, the question remains, will you see the path for what it is?
Will you follow this path?
You begin to walk through the grass, but not the marked path. The grass touches your bare skin, marking it a dark shade of green as it strokes against your epidermis. After a few seconds, the marks on your skin begin to burn, charring your skin black where the green once was. You stop, scream wildly into the air, clutching your wounds in a feeble attempt to console yourself. Back into the middle of the field you go, in the circle free of the grass. Maybe you'll see the path this time.
Maybe, the path will be followed as was intended.
Walking closer to the path, you see a slight difference in the tall grass on the right hand side of the path, a minuscule differentiation in the color. Being the brilliant thinker you are, you come to the conclusion that there would be different result to walking through this patch. You take a step into the grass, and it marks your bare skin with stripes of orange. Immediately, the orange stripes begin to freeze, and the segments of skin that were marked begin to become frostbitten. I guess you were right, in essence. There was a different result, just not the one you assumed it to be.
Nothing ever turns out how you assume it to, does it?
You fall back into the circle, the place where it's safe for you to stay, until you stop being blind and commence the journey past the first obstacle. For yes, this is but the first obstacle on the path. The simplest of all, if you were to just think. However, you prove yourself to be incapable of doing even that, as you poke at the grass, ignoring the same effects happening over and over and over and over and over again.
Repression gains nothing, it only destroys.
I can't help but smile, wherever it is that I am, at the situation you've found yourself in by not following the simplest of unspoken instruction. Do I have to place a sign pointing you in the direction of the path for you to even begin that there is a path? Sadly, that's what it would come to if I had to make accommodations for the intellect of those stuck in the endless loop of your, nay, our journey. For as much as this is a test for you, I am the administrator of this examination. I am just as much a part of this ordeal as you. As such, I must point out how, painful it is to see you in this state.
Maybe not painful, as much as it is humorous.
You finally manage to stumble onto the path, and much to your surprise, the grass that brushes against your skin does not mark you. No feelings are felt, aside from the brushing itself. Walking down the path, you finally find yourself making progress. Moving closer to the horizon, you see something becoming more visible as you approach. A shadow, a ghost, a spirit even, you think as you draw closer. Dreading every step you take, the, thing's appearance becomes slightly more distinguishable as the amount of inches between you and the unidentified thing decrease.
Uneasiness is temporary, fear is permanent. Do you fear me?
The figure becomes clear as you walk up to it. Still shadowy, but you tell it's the figure of a woman. Being the dog you are, you begin to walk faster, despite the aches on your body from the burns and frost bite. The shadows fall back further when you reach eyesight of the woman. The first striking thing you notice about her, is her eyes. Not the beauty or magnificence, or anything of that matter. However, more the shine. A white shine comes from her pupils, and nearly blind you as you try to look into them. She looks familiar, dragging your mind back to the incident on the boat. The woman who threw herself into the ocean with a thud. Now, what was her name again?
Jessica Marie Diaz, for those at home.
She reaches her hand out to you, the first nice gesture you've received on this journey. In a frantic, hurried tone, she asks you to take it and follow her. For, what you haven't seen yet is that she will make you see the light.
![[-]](https://xwf99.com/images/portal2/collapse.gif)
The following 1 user Likes Jessie-ica Diaz's post:
