Where is the home of sadness? It lies within me. I have tried to evict it, turned off the electricity, denied it sustenance and yet it refuses to leave. I have forced the sun to shine, blasting light at the yellowed shade and the soiled green curtains. They seem a weak barrier, yet only a wan and sickly haze is allowed in.
I walk around this enigma, this hole that sucks the warmth from my world. It intrudes on the pleasant green and blue of my surroundings. It is a stain. A wound. Death. I have looked in the door and seen the room. It is filled with dry and dusty furnishings. It whispers for me to leave the sun. To rest.
I hear my son playing on the hill, his voice dreamlike. Startled, I let go of the door. My feet have crossed the threshold. I step back, crushing brittle grass and feel the tug of sighing hands urging me to enter. I force another step, my shadow stretching long before me as if tangled in the threadbare rug. I step and step, and step again, ragged breathing loud in my ears. I step until I feel the threads that bind me to that place tear and part. I step until the sounds of the forest chase the chill from my frame. I step until the cabin is a mote in my view, a tiny black hole tugging at the edges of the world around it.
I step until the curve of the hill hides the weeping dark and trees spring up at the corners of my vision. I continue backing slowly into their protective ranks until they stand like an army between me and my despair.
Then finally I stop.
Light rests gently on my shoulders and my son’s laughter rustles with the grass around me.
I will not cross that hill again. I fear that one day that dry and dusty place will seem a refuge.
I turn slowly to greet my son as tears roll down my face. They glitter like diamonds as they slide through the dust onto the green and fragrant grass.
I wish to live in the sun.
I originally published this on Wattpad in 2017.