They are Unfathomable

They are Unfathomable

In the happiest moments I hear them. The instant the pain vanishes, I hear them. All the times I forget I'm apart of this world, I hear them. They are always there in my dreams and reality, and I hear them. They call my name, and I hear them. No matter where I go, what I do, what I say, or think, I hear them. I hear them, and they will forever haunt me.

Have you ever seen things out of the corner of your eye? Have you ever had your dreams, nightmares come true? Have you ever screamed to the night and wake to find every moment pure terror? Reader, curious mind, you can never know, understand these feelings unless you've had a taste of them. If they are forgein in your mind, then you are blessed. Do not wish to know them. Do not cry, shed one tear in their favor. They are abstract, shapeless shadows. They come and go as darkness; you would not cry if a long night left, so do not weep for them.

I do not write for pleasure, I tell you this out of your right to know, courtesy you may call it. You perceive this story as you see fit. The ending is what you make of it. But know this, the end is by the protagonist's own means. I am the protagonist. This is my story, but do not feel sympathy for me. As you sit, stand, run, jog, bike, or any other action, please remember I have chosen this path and my fate was set long ago. This curse is my own. Do not crave for what you cannot have or understand. You may choose to believe or choose to forget this as truth. These events may seem unfathomable, but reader; gentle eyes, leave wisdom at the door. Truth has left you here. Continue if you must, but the next events are through my trembling eyes. If you will not stop here, brave reader, then it will begin again...


My memory of the start comes and goes. The overall process of nightmares is slow, at least for me. My story begins in childhood, as most usually do. The day was normal enough, but the details of activities in the sun do not alter the evening schedule. The night fell quickly, as I lay in my bed. To this day I am a heavy sleeper, and I usually do not wake up screaming from nightmares. My sleep was extremely vivid, yet horrified me with morbid figures and objects. This night was the first time I shrieked in fear and felt them.

I shot up feeling hot, but my skin was drenched in a cold sweat. There was no light in the room, so I stared into the blackness. My eyes could not focus, therefore I saw it. The light in the corner of my room. It was extremely bright, but only illuminated the corner in which it resided. Turning my head, the figure vanished into the shadows. Without seeing it, I could feel it. It had the air of comfort and terror. Hovering in the same spot, the presence never left and continued to observe me. As a child, things seem different. We have no fear, but can sense good and evil. I could not discern which it was, but I had fear, pure terror... Do not discard this as regular squeamish, childish fear of spiders, monsters under the bed, or the boogie man. Such things did not and do not disturb me. But it caused my quivering body not to move. Something was in my room, its light scared me, I could not get rid of it, and my parents could not comfort me then or now. This was because my parents do not have this curse. They would think I'm crazy, if I said,

"Hey, I see things, like figureless shadows and they're going to attack me at night." So, I envey you because you have the ignorance not see them. Those moments grew thin, while my eyes strained to focus. A glimpse from the corner of my eyes could reveal its shape. That image has never left my mind. That memory, that petrifying light illuminates my dreams, but never the darkest and most agonizing feelings. It was one of them. They never leave me, they have been there from childhood, and continue even now. I will stop them. They will no longer haunt me, their time for tortue of my mind will cease... today.


You now know the start, do you wish for more? Are you still reading this? It's your curiosity, that's the only explination. Reader, are you lonely; is that why your eyes scan these words? If so, then beware... Being alone is a part of life. We are all alone at times without a friend; I warn you. It is the ignorance of them which protects you. Remember, it is the things you choose to become, the character you gain, when you are alone, which shapes your future. Do not think of them in isolation, or they will take you too. Many have gone mad because of this, and yet I have not.

They have tried to break me. They have spent years creeping into my dreams showing me images of things that have not yet happened. They come at all times of the day and are here with me now, as I tell you. Do you think knowing the future is good? Oh, yes I know how certain things will happen. If you say that is good because I can prepare myself. LIES!!! Do not trust seers and fortune tellers. The future is not a toy for their whims. If a person knows their future, what is the point of living? Life is a story, this is a story, if you, reader, confused mind, or reflectful imagination know the ending, my ending, would you read it? Would you read my story, my tale, which has no twists or turns, where everything is forsee-able, and bland? Most of you would not; I wouldn't. A story is not a story without an atogonist, a protagonist, and a plot. You know which I am, can you guess the antagonists, can you guess which one you are, and can you guess the next morbid twist of fate?

Tread lightly on my broken glass reflection, and you might see the image in which I have always remained. You and I have two things in common. This one-sided conversation and humanity. I am human, but I am apart of their world. I am an outcast because I cannot belong in either setting. This is why I am hated. Hatred, a funny word, it seems this is the opposite essance of love. How come you can love a person, and hate another? Does this not seem redundant? I neither love nor hate. I am alone, so feelings to another person are absent in my mind. If feelings and the knowledge of being civilized makes us human, then what am I? I am polite and curtious, but feel pain and isolation. Intrigued eyes, you know me, but do you know yourself? If all feelings make us human, then I am human. If seeing them and breathing their air makes me apart of them, then I am them. I wonder whether you can see this maddening circular reasoning... Have you had enough yet?

The wounds and markings are invisible to the normal eye, but not mine. They cause the mental scares and cuts on my body. I can see them. Saddened mind, do you feel sympathy yet? STOP!!! I don't want your pity. I want freedom; can you give that to me? No matter, I have dealt with ignorance and naive minds before. Forget me like the others and all is forgiven. This confusion was not meant for the unworthy. You always say it is a privilage to know the untold, unseen, or unheard. What irony to despise what you cherise. Remember I am a foreigner, so I cannot hate or love. I cannot hate or love my gift. I cannot hate or love the world... or you. I mearly view, crave the hate and love you can feel and give.

So, you haven't had enough. Well done, you have made it this far without throwing my torchered mind out the door. Now, the plot, to which you have waited for so eagerly for, has arrived. I desire, no need to rid myself of them. I want to become normal. I no longer want to have this curse. Seeing images or living the untold future in reality and dreams is miserable. Absurd it may seem, but this is the point. Gentle eyes, I do not implore you to read. The story takes a down turn from this point on. Get out now, it's not to late. You still have the free will not to know, understand terror. Leave me here... I have been alone before and will manage again. I fear without them, because they are my only companaigns. But I do not fear darkness. CHOOSE before it is to late...

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The time has passed, and I thank you. Reader, my friend, you have not left me and I will reveal my ending. First, as a tribute to you, I will define them. You have heard me use this term several times, but as the reader you cannot know the protagonist's mind. What are they, you ask? What symbolizm am I trying to convey? Is there a deeper meaning to this bizarre fable? Gentle eyes, reader, and friend they are fear, forgotten memories, hatred, jealousy, death, lost love, or anything you wish to define them as. That is why they are shapeless. A figure would define them, as would a name. So they remain the nameless; the unfathomable to me. Your free will defines what you understand. I have accepted them as everything, and they appear as everything.

As for symbolizm, there is none. I tell you this out of courtesy. If you are reading this to get a point, meaning, deeper understanding, or for an assignment. I WRITE TO TELL YOU OF MY TORTURE. I do not take any pleasure in repeating this or my struggle through the never ending night. I was alone then, but you are here with me now. In truth, a new word to me... we are never alone. As the reader, you have the free will to choose the meaning of that sentence. As for me, I was never lonesome because of them, but I do not have anyone. I have no friends, no family who understands me, and have no respect shown to me. This makes me alone. They, the tormentors of my mind in both dreams and reality, are my only companions.

In short, I am the friend of isolation and companion of twilight. I can walk on either side of the mind, but am unable to make a home. Wandering eyes, truth is gone. This is my reality, fantasy. They are one in the same. Both are odd, yet you cannot have one without the other. You cannot have a story without an antagonist and a protagonist. You cannot have life without good or evil. There must be unfathomable twists and turns. Do you understand? My mind is not like yours. What bliss it must be to live in such undaunted ignorance.

As a second thank you, I will tell you how I plan to dispose of my curse. This is simple. I must become like you, ignorant to them. Throughout the years I have slowly developed a plan, and that is why you read. You must know how and if I accomplish this. Don't turn back , you have crossed the thresh-hold of my mind. The world shakes at the thought of loosing one like me, but I must be rid of them. There have been others, kinder ones to my mind. I bid farwell to them, and thank them. Both good and evil exist in the world, but you choose your master. Choose the antonym or the synonym for... The word you whisper defines your ruler.

The time is now because it will never come again. I hold the knife in my hand, the shimmering blade is only centimeters from my crusted skin. I have no fear of death, or what I must do. The coldness is welcomed by my senses. I only press against one wrist, that is all that is needed. Is this how it feels? The tingle seems less. But here they come, I can see them. The unfathomable are taking shapes and figures. They flow up from the ground far below. It is their will that I suffer. No MORE!!! The blade, where is the blade? My timing must be perfect, or they will hurtle me to my death. This is it, the final battle...

"Unfathomable, you come to me because I fear nothing but your shifting appearence. This will end! I have chosen, death. I have chosen the darkness of death..." Why am I stumbling? The darkness... the light, the shapeless monster, the others... Where did they go? The light it's gone, but it's cold. Do you wish now you had not continued? Wishes, hope, amd believing all thoughts, you must do to succeed! It's not over yet! FRIENDS, this is not death, this is not the end! I have not fallen; I only bleed. The end is by the protagonist's own means, my end. I say it is the end, when it is so. The antagonists have not won.

Voices... They are not them. What are they? Humans, like me, they are here. Why? Did you call them? You must have, friend, my only friend, thank you a thousand times and beyond. Am I on the ground?... No, it's still the roof. No, I only sliced into one. I didn't want to die. This was my plan. I am rid of them! By fearing another greater than them, I answer to the higher master. Death will find me one day, but not here, not in this place. As having a curse that shows you the untold. I have peaked into the time and place of... It does not matter. I know I'm not supposed to die by falling or slicing. No, I'm not crazy. I have accomplished the impossible. I have cheated the unfathomable out of their right. The prisoner has escaped their great jail. This was my destiny. People, strangers crowd around me wanting to help. They are confused, don't understand, but I do. Fight fire with water, and do the most unsuspected act. The truth is, I didn't cut to deep, just enough to see them. I didn't stand at the edge either; I remained at the top. That's all that was needed. I do not fear or see them any longer.

Yes, I'm alright, this is how it should be. The day has broken through the rain clouds. What? This is no longer the roof. I see their faces. People are here, they care. Strange, I have never had tears of joy before. Is this what happiness feels like? Warmth, no coldness... the blade, don't touch it. Throw it away! Use a cloth to pick it up, please, the blood it must remain on the metal. Burry it, and let them dig for it. That is their destiny.

The future should be left to fate. My life can begin for real now. This is my ending. I have a friend at last. You are worth all the years I have spent in the prison of my mind. Never forget me, the friend next door with the black roses and blue stones. Whenever you read this, remember me as a friend, and look into the corner for the light. I will shield you from them, I will never forget your great kindness, reader, gentle eyes, and beautiful mind. The protagonist has won, and this is my end, but the start of my journey in light. Always do the impossible, believe in the unseen, and know there is someone who always cares. I have found a home...