Darkness

For a long time I didn't even realize its presence. It followed me, but only seemed to observe from afar. It did not interfere with me or my life, but nor was it content to keep its distance. It edged closer, ever so slowly. Sometimes it would only follow me when I was alone, it’s presence unnerving. But soon it became more ambitious, it would be in the room with me when I was with friends and family. They couldn't see it, but I now could. Days went by, I tried to ignore it, tried to pretend it wasn't there, that things were the way they always had been, but it had become relentless. It had become part of my life, but I never asked for it.

The nearer it got the better I could examine it, the more I examined it the more disdain I had for it. It was hideous, prickly and constantly sneering at my unease. How did I not realize it sooner? I couldn't let this go on, I had to confront it, terrified as I was. I waited till I was alone one night. It sat in the corner of my room, a smirk on its grotesque face. “What are you?” I demanded. I meant to sound assertive, yet the word were afraid to leave my mouth and seemed to fall flatly on the floor as they passed my lips.

It seemed to find this amusing as its smirk grew wider. Slowly it stood up. ‘What do you expect me to say?” It said as though it were mocking me “Do you wish me to say that I am some evil creature from a nightmare you had? I am not, for I am very real and with nightmares you eventually awaken.” It began to move towards me. It only moved slowly, yet I couldn't muster the strength to run. “The simple reality is I am not something from a nightmare, I am not an evil spirit or a demon,” it now stopped, now just over a foot away from me. “What I am is simple,” it reached forward with one arm and placed its cold hand upon my forehead “I am part of you.” No sooner had it whispered the words did it remove its hand from my head and walk away.

For a while I stood there frozen, my mind racing my body numb. Eventually I managed to put one foot in front of the other and walk towards my mirror. There I saw it. On my forehead, right where its repulsive hand had rested, was a black mark. The mark was slimy and repugnant, I couldn’t quite explain why beyond its horrible appearance, but I knew I wanted no one to see it. After a good deal of panic I had managed to arrange my hair in a way that covered up the mark. This strategy worked for a few days, people were oblivious to the freakish mark I possessed. However it soon began to grow and cover the majority of my forehead. Each morning I was taking more time to cover up the mark, the thought of someone finding out made me feel sick. Even when I had covered it up I was concerned someone would see. It wasn’t long before started to spread across the rest of my face. I could no longer cover it but I could not have people see it, the only thing I could do was withdraw.

I hoped maybe it would pass, each day I would check to see if it had begun to shrink, but each day the opposite confronted me. The black mark continued to crawl over my skin, its progression relentless, my suffering constant. By the time it had covered half my body it had also smothered my hope. My life had seemingly dissolved, my memory of better days was all but diminished. It had become too painful to look at myself in the mirror, it was painful to look at myself. This was not simply because the mark that covered half my body, if I still could call it a mark, was hideous, but because I was beginning to look like that awful thing that had followed me. It was not just part of me but starting to control, pulling me away from the life I had lived and the life I had wanted to live yet I could not resist.

The more the mark covered me the more I found myself forced into doing what it wanted me to do rather than what I wanted to do. The more I did what it wished me to the more I forgot what it was I wanted to do. Eventually it got to the point I should have always known it was coming to. The oily blackness now fully engulfed me, there was nothing of my old appearance or identity left to be seen. It was no longer a part of me, it had fully enslaved me, it was me.

Not long after the mark had fully covered me it lead me away, I had no strength left to even try to oppose it. It led me out away from houses, away from people to where a small lake lay among the trees. Slowly I entered it. The water around me gradually grew higher, until suddenly the earth beneath be feet seemed to give way and the water rose to submerge me. The black mark that covered me dragged me deeper. Down I went, further and further, yet still I could not resist. As water started to enter my lungs, memories that I thought I had forgotten returned. Memories of my friends and family, the people I cared for, yet I was alone, none of them were here to help me. It was now that I needed help. I had lost the battle, I needed someone to fight for me. But here I am, completely alone.

Help.