*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2229527-Skeletons
Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
by vague
Rated: 18+ · Other · Psychology · #2229527
Metaphorical
When one thinks and says this word, an image of a scary skeleton in the biology lab of your high school comes to mind. The bursting energy of a curious mind creeping down to controlled footsteps, excited swift gaze darting around the big room full of big jars carrying strange things ... till your eyes suddenly fall on one corner of the room where a small skeleton stared right at your face announcing "I am you."

Skeletons are scary indeed.

Ignorance is bliss, they say. True. When you don't get to know what lies ahead of you, you walk happily, maybe right into the jaws of severe danger, but the fear is momentary. You were walking blissfully all along. And then, like a lightning bolt, it is all gone. Long blissful walk, momentary scare, and then the end of it all. Is it good? Who knows? Did the blissful being get to feel the brutality of the jaws? Do they get to feel anything at all? Who can tell?

Yet some others are aware of the scary skeletons around them. They haunt you, they warn you about lurking dangers just round the corner, they tell you to not fall asleep lest the jaws grip you in your sleep. Some see skeletons all the time.

'Skeletons in the closet'. A high alert statement. The shadow used strong materials to make the closet, so no-one can hammer it down. No-one can see what is inside because skeletons are scary. No-one is supposed to see them. The shadow puts a huge lock on it. Then he turns the key ... once, twice, thrice ... several times. The bones are safe inside, in the dark. Not a soul should know. Will anyone know? The shadow looks around and sees several closets, all locked and secure. What is inside them? Anything like the stuff he hid? The shadow looks ahead of him. Everything is smokey, hazy. Similar shadows are pounding on something. The shadow inches closer. A broken closet ! The lock gone, withered, rotting bones strewn around. And shadows pound. He sighs, relieved. His soul soars. I have to find my hammer. I have to join them. I too, have to beat till I forget what I left in the dark. I have to live. So? I have to beat alongside the other shadows. I have to turn the scattered bones and skulls into dust. I have to turn them into dust while my guilt lay there in the dark, safely hidden like those other shadows. I have to live, I have to join them because skeletons scare me.
© Copyright 2020 vague (cathars1s at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2229527-Skeletons