The Beast In Me
The shadow self is not fear but the freedom from it.
You’ve been avoiding me.
It was a statement – matter-of-fact, without emotion. I blinked, trying to find her in the darkness. The air felt heavy and musty – like a trunk stuffed with old clothes that had not been opened for many years. I caught a whiff of naphthalene balls and moth-eaten wool.
I turned around slowly, trying to get my bearings. There was no wall I could find to steady myself – just an expanse of space. I must be dreaming.
Maybe. Maybe not. She whispered in my ear. Too close. I whipped my head towards her voice and heard her chuckle.
If I were the female lead in a fantasy novel, I would either cower in fear or be brave enough to pull out my knives and ask her to show herself. Instead, I found myself waiting, curious to see where this conversation would go. Would she lose interest in me, or would she manage to provoke me?
Do you want to be provoked?
I wasn’t sure. Provocation was my nemesis. If baited correctly, I could never resist the urge to respond. Yet I remained silent.
You’ve changed… she mused. I heard the soft smile playing on her lips.
Do you have a question there or…. I let the sentence hang.
Silence.
I looked around again, waiting for her to say something. I couldn’t focus, the darkness blurring at the edges of my vision. I rubbed my eyes furiously, trying to get them to clear up.
You will only see what you are willing to.
I was beginning to get annoyed. If this was a dream, I would wake up soon. But I’d be damned if I let some subconscious shit provoke me into waking up angry in the middle of the night.
I heard her chuckle, a soft lilting sound that echoed all around me.
You’re such a good girl. I’m so proud of you.
I only wish you could control your temper and not be so angry all the time.
Stop it, I whispered.
Hit a nerve?
What do you want? I asked, giving in.
What you’ve always wanted.
I heard a soft hiss, and then a slither. A shiver ran down my spine. I felt her behind me and then all around.
Who are you? I asked softly.
Silence. And then a soft chuckle again.
A shiver ran down my spine. I realised that I was afraid. This was not a dream.
This was not a dream, she echoed.
Please stop it, I pleaded.
I didn’t ask you to come looking for me. You’ve done that all by yourself. No one can come here unless they want to.
She spoke softly, her voice smooth like silk. I saw a vague form, moving in and out of shape. A soft sliver of light danced upon her. There was no start or end to this place. No door or passage. I had no idea where I was or how to get out.
You can’t get out till I let you, she whispered.
You can read my mind, I stated, realisation dawning.
Little slow tonight... aren’t we? she chuckled again.
I felt the familiar stir of anger – a sizzle just underneath my skin. My tongue felt thick. Sweat trickled down my armpits. I balled my fingers into fists, clenching and unclenching.
Counting to ten is not going to help you, she sang.
There was no hiding from her, and she would continue to tease and taunt me till she got some answers. I squared my shoulders, let out a low breath and looked around.
Okay, what do you want?
To be seen. Her voice came from everywhere.
How do I do that when you’re a ball of mist?
I felt her behind me then. A weight so heavy that I couldn’t breathe. I tried to touch her, grab her, but my hands closed around icy cold air.
Stop it! I demanded.
No, came her whisper.
Please, I begged. My breath came in short bursts now - shallow and faint. I can’t breathe… please.
The weight lifted off my shoulders. I felt her brush against my leg – cold and unforgiving. She was angry, I realised. So very angry with me. And I wasn’t sure why.
And I wasn’t sure why, she echoed.
Yes, why? Why are you angry with me? I don’t understand this.
I didn’t take you for a fool.
I am no fool, and you know it, I snapped.
There she is… she crooned, teasing me.
I remained quiet, unable to form words. Whatever this was, it was a part of me. She knew things that were private, almost sacred. My fears and desires resided here – parts of me that were not privy to the world or even those closest to me. This was deeply personal.
I will not act on them, I told her. No matter how long you hold me here.
Why not? she asked, genuinely curious. Will your ever-evolving moral compass not allow you to even acknowledge it?
What’s the point? I scoffed.
What’s the point? She scoffed back.
I felt her anger rise again – sharp, like needle pricks that stung me all over. I let out a cry of pain and fell to my knees.
The point, my dear girl, is that no one would revere the sun if there was no night. No one would understand good without the fear of evil. Light exists because there is dark. And the dark is not something to fear. It is a part of you. Embrace it, nurture it, love it.
She paused, waiting, as I took in what she had just said. I knew all this. I was well aware of the things I sometimes wanted to do. But I felt like I was missing the point somewhere. Everyone had a dark side. No one really acted on them. That would make us all insane.
Do you think you are sane and stable? Do you think you are better than others because you refuse to acknowledge your desires? Because you follow the rules?
I don’t follow all the rules… I knew I was losing the argument.
She laughed. It was cruel and heartless and angry.
I want my mother to be proud of me, she whispered. Except, it was not her voice. It was mine, echoed back to me. A flush of embarrassment heated my face. I remained on the floor, the pain ebbing and flowing.
If you think this is going to cause some spiritual awakening, you’re in for abject disappointment. No one gets a pretty life handed to them. And I am too old to believe in fairy tales and vague happily ever afters. There is no such thing. I’ve made a good life for myself. I’ve hustled and learned, failed and grown. And I’ll be damned if some voice in my head is going to derail me now.
It was the bitter truth. And she knew that.
I am not some voice in your head, she snapped. I am you. The deepest, darkest part of you. The part that craves revenge. The part that wants to hurt people, cheat, lie and steal. The part that wants to speak freely and honestly. The part that wants to explore multiple partners. Sometimes even two at a time. I am all that you have denied yourself for decades. I am the only part you have never acknowledged.
No, I wasn’t like that at all.
You’re not like that? She taunted. Or are you scared to let your true nature show?
The mist swirled and expanded till it surrounded me in its thick haze.
What’s your authentic self? How would you describe her? Her voice morphed into my therapist.
I clenched my jaw, refusing to let her goad me.
Tell me, if you had the choice, wouldn’t you want to explore that side of yourself? To be free of human judgment and not care how your actions impact others? To not give a fuck, for once in your life. To play in ways that you desire? What would it take to let it all go?
I scoffed at that. She stopped moving, and in the dark swirling mist, I finally saw her. Her eyes were deep ebony pools of desire. Her lips rounded and full. I couldn’t make out the rest of her, but I could sense her. A luscious body, a short crop of hair kissing the nape of her neck, skin like silk and the confidence of a woman who did not care for the opinion of others.
She held my gaze – waiting.
You’re asking me to act upon all my base instincts? I cheat, lie, steal, fuck – then what? Every heard of a thing like consequence? I don’t live in isolation. My actions can hurt others. I cannot do whatever I please.
So you admit to wanting it.
I admit to nothing.
She laughed this time, her voice building up till it echoed all around. I covered my ears, trying to shut her out, but she grew louder till her pitch was unbearable.
I cannot justify it. Not in this lifetime.
She stopped laughing, her mist growing darker, the mass of her thicker. She touched my cheeks then, like a mother fondly caressing her child. I felt a tender kiss on my brow.
But you will. You just haven’t been pushed to the brink yet. A time will come when you will consider it, like it and act upon it. I will be there to hold your hand – to guide you. You are not alive till you let me out. You are barely breathing – weighed down by your own moral judgements. The people who surround you will fall away eventually. Your iron walls will rust and crumble. And when all is gone, I will remain – your final frontier, your weapon to wield as you please. Perhaps you are not ready, not thirsty enough. Fear resides in you – you stink of it. Come back when you are ready to be who you truly are. Not some version you concoct in your dreams, but a version that you live.
My heart was pounding. Beads of sweat trickled down my temples. I could smell my stench – putrid and sour – like curdled milk. I felt naked and exposed. But I also felt alive. I wanted to hurt people the way they had hurt me. I wanted to cheat and steal in the way I had been cheated. I wanted to take revenge and be alive to soak in its victory. And I wanted to fuck with recklessness. I wanted it all. Everything that she was promising me – the allure of it was so strong.
Yes…. she whispered. Feels so good, doesn’t it?
It did feel good. Why did it feel so good?
Let me out, and I promise you will want for nothing.
A deal with the devil.
A deal with the devil, she chuckled.
I felt myself loosen. Felt her come closer, ready to take over.
I wanted to give in to her so badly. I wanted the pain I had held on to for so long to go away.
I can make it all go away, she promised.
No pain. No fear. No regrets. Flashes appeared before me, and she showed me dream after dream of what life could have been like. Of what life could still be like. My resolve weakened. I was so tired of holding it all together. Maybe I could let it go – just for a while. Just till I gathered my strength to return to the fight.
Yes…. that’s it… let go, she crooned.
I closed my eyes and lifted my face. No point in denying it. No running away this time.
No running away this time, she echoed.
And then I felt myself fall.
This piece was originally written during the Ochre Sky Stories Writing Circle - a space that continues to surprise me with the writing that it brings out. I’ve refined it since then into a commentary that I’ve been battling with for a while. Leave a comment if it relates or stirs something in you. I’d love to hear about your dark side.