This is a piece of fiction ; Part 1
You know the feeling of having something weighing down on your chest? You feel something heavy, a pressure pulling you down; pushing down on your fragile heart. I don’t know what that is. But it’s there, making it difficult for me to breath, think, and speak. I don’t know what to feel, how to feel. Anxiety, stress, depression are a few names they use to describe it. But what is it? A burden I have no intention of having, yet it is still there.
Robbing me of serenity, it’s paining me, mocking me, knowing I seize the knowledge of how to vanquish it. But do I have that knowledge? They say sometimes holding tight to the rope is what bleeds your hands, then should I let go? Let it all out, like a scream of thoughts. When I think of it, I think of a dark shadow figure that feeds on uncertainty, on fear of not doing the right thing. What if the only way of eliminating it, is holding on to it so I could then let it go. A sacrifice, a little pain instead of lot of it. Do you know that feeling? How can something so evil live within us? Not only does it live within us, but it is birthed within us, it is us; part of us.