THE MAIDEN
By Rebecca Forest
I feel Death is coming. It enters deep in my bones, trying to suck the life out of my body.
I already know this feeling; it came to me so many times in the past, that I sense Her presence from afar.
When she arrived, it didn't matter how warm, or chill was outside or what season was at that time. She didn't care that the nature was rejuvenated, all she cared was taking one more pray to add at her collection.
Do you know how I know she's about to come? It's that feeling that something is wrong and then you can hear the whistling down the corner.
Of course, you could try to hide as far as you can, but that is in vain. She would finally find you and there is no real escape.
Facing Her, we beg for a delay ? "give me one more chance, give me a little more time and I'll?.". It seems that under her menace we discover that apparently, we love more than we thought this life that we always complain about.
I met her for the first time when I was a child. In my childhood I spent my summer holidays at the country, in a small village where my grandparents used to live. My grandmother took me at the funerals, and I always had a childish, not morbid, curiosity to see the lying bodies of the deceased. It amazed me that those dead people looked like they were sleeping. An endless sleep without the possibility to wake up like a contemporary Lazarus. Being a small child, I had no fears and I embraced Her like an old friend.
As you can see, our first encounter was a friendly one and then we kept on living our lives, in the opposite directions, asironical as it may sound.
Later in my life I called Her. I called her in a soft voice, in a way wishing that she might not hear me. She came visibly annoyed, looked at me and left, whispering that it was not the time for me to leave. Yet. That "yet" left me shivering.
I played with her "hide and seek" too many times, victorious and happy that I won and here I am, still breathing.
I challenged her, taking hands full of pills, but I won in the end. Or really, have I? I'm still here, Lady, I'm still here.
I climbed high mountains, I exhausted myself running beyond my powers, and yet She decided to ignore me. I used to see Her dark veil in a glimpse of a second approaching me, but soon She disappeared leaving behind a trace of a smile and high hopes.
But there ae days when I feel Her presence more than never. There were days where my happiness was shadowed by Her, days when I felt her deep in my bones, paralyzing me. There were days when I felt calm and at peace with myself, but I had suddenly a sense of urgency, as if somebody put a ticking bomb into my body.
"Why don't you let me be?" I scream to Her. "Why can't I be happy? I finally found peace, why don't You let me stay this way?"
One of these peaceful days She came again, while I was riding my bike and loving the butterflies. This time she decided to hurt me, not only to pay a short visit. She decided to take away a loved one, for leaving a deep trace into my life. She needed to prove that She was more powerful than I am. She needed to show me that I amjust another passenger in life, but She is here to stay.
And She didn't leave me much time to recover. After two months of grief and mourning, she came back, transforming me in a cold numb statue. Depleted and lost in the underworld, I was ready to surrender. She came to me, closed my eyes and with a cold kiss whispered ? "not yet".
She loves to torment me. She doesn't allow me to plan the unpredictable. Yet, she doesn't allow me to live? not even once in this lifetime.
By Rebecca Forest
I feel Death is coming. It enters deep in my bones, trying to suck the life out of my body.
I already know this feeling; it came to me so many times in the past, that I sense Her presence from afar.
When she arrived, it didn't matter how warm, or chill was outside or what season was at that time. She didn't care that the nature was rejuvenated, all she cared was taking one more pray to add at her collection.
Do you know how I know she's about to come? It's that feeling that something is wrong and then you can hear the whistling down the corner.
Of course, you could try to hide as far as you can, but that is in vain. She would finally find you and there is no real escape.
Facing Her, we beg for a delay ? "give me one more chance, give me a little more time and I'll?.". It seems that under her menace we discover that apparently, we love more than we thought this life that we always complain about.
I met her for the first time when I was a child. In my childhood I spent my summer holidays at the country, in a small village where my grandparents used to live. My grandmother took me at the funerals, and I always had a childish, not morbid, curiosity to see the lying bodies of the deceased. It amazed me that those dead people looked like they were sleeping. An endless sleep without the possibility to wake up like a contemporary Lazarus. Being a small child, I had no fears and I embraced Her like an old friend.
As you can see, our first encounter was a friendly one and then we kept on living our lives, in the opposite directions, asironical as it may sound.
Later in my life I called Her. I called her in a soft voice, in a way wishing that she might not hear me. She came visibly annoyed, looked at me and left, whispering that it was not the time for me to leave. Yet. That "yet" left me shivering.
I played with her "hide and seek" too many times, victorious and happy that I won and here I am, still breathing.
I challenged her, taking hands full of pills, but I won in the end. Or really, have I? I'm still here, Lady, I'm still here.
I climbed high mountains, I exhausted myself running beyond my powers, and yet She decided to ignore me. I used to see Her dark veil in a glimpse of a second approaching me, but soon She disappeared leaving behind a trace of a smile and high hopes.
But there ae days when I feel Her presence more than never. There were days where my happiness was shadowed by Her, days when I felt her deep in my bones, paralyzing me. There were days when I felt calm and at peace with myself, but I had suddenly a sense of urgency, as if somebody put a ticking bomb into my body.
"Why don't you let me be?" I scream to Her. "Why can't I be happy? I finally found peace, why don't You let me stay this way?"
One of these peaceful days She came again, while I was riding my bike and loving the butterflies. This time she decided to hurt me, not only to pay a short visit. She decided to take away a loved one, for leaving a deep trace into my life. She needed to prove that She was more powerful than I am. She needed to show me that I amjust another passenger in life, but She is here to stay.
And She didn't leave me much time to recover. After two months of grief and mourning, she came back, transforming me in a cold numb statue. Depleted and lost in the underworld, I was ready to surrender. She came to me, closed my eyes and with a cold kiss whispered ? "not yet".
She loves to torment me. She doesn't allow me to plan the unpredictable. Yet, she doesn't allow me to live? not even once in this lifetime.
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