Deep Breaths

I am absolutely SICK of this. I sit in the corner of my dim cell glaring at the creature blocking my path. The door to my cell is open, and it always has been ever since I first got myself stuck here about a decade ago. I have tried many times to get out, don’t get me wrong, but this stupid horror keeps me from succeeding. It has the form of a tall skinny human covered in pitch black, void of any facial features except for two sharp horns protruding from either side of its head and a huge, wide smile that reaches from ear to ear with a snake-like tongue that lashes between pointed teeth. I’ve gotten used to looking at this awful thing, but way it talks to me has always unnerved me… and it talks without end. That’s why about 7 years ago I found the courage to nickname it “Babble”. It liked that a lot. It meant we were becoming close, like friends. “You’re Babble’s only friend, and I’m the only one you have too,” it rasped. Slithering from its vocal cords came the combined voices of a man and woman. It used to give me shivers, but now it’s simply annoying, like nails on chalkboard. 

Right now, Babble sits in front of the glowing open door with its legs criss-crossed. As terrifying as it looks, it has such a snobby, sarcastic, patronizing personality. The death-glare I’m giving would have petrified anyone else, but Babble’s smile grows larger with each passing moment, it’s shiny teeth eventually showing past its cracked lips.

“You’re wanting to escape again, aren’t you?” it drawls with a taunting smirk and tilted head. It always seems to read my mind. I don’t move, but Babble scoots itself back out of the doorway and raises its hands as if to present the glowing rectangle to me. “Go right ahead.” 

I’d been preparing for a moment like this, and I finally found it. I really, truly, can’t take being stuck here anymore. After a few moments, I uncurl myself from my corner and stand up, determined more than ever. This sarcastic charade of Babble’s isn’t anything new. It has stepped out of my way before, but I’m ready this time, I’m sure of it. I look down at my hands dirty with dry blood and wrists with perfectly lined scratches. Then I ball my hands into fists, take a deep breath, and slowly walk towards the door.

“You know it’s always been open to you,” Babble mocks, “You’ve simply been too scared to go through. Do you even know what’s going to happen on the other side?” 

I keep walking, one step at a time. Babble gets up from its spot and leans against the doorway with a sigh.

“I worry about you, you know. What will people think of you? You’ve been here for years, and honestly, you’ve gotten uglier. Like, you’ve been sitting on your butt eating junk food. You’ve definitely puffed up in some noticeable places. When did you last shower? And I know for sure everyone will notice all those scars you have. They’re everywhere. I’m just afraid of all those whispers and talks behind closed doors. You’ll get your feelings hurt.”

I close my eyes and grit my teeth. It always tells the truth. No, no, keep walking. Babble knows it’s getting to me again, for the millionth time. I can hear it smile.

“Man, the attention and pity you’ll get from everyone… that’s what you’ve always wanted, right? That attention? Or maybe it’s not attention you want, but what you don’t want. You know you’ll get it if you walk out that door. That guilt will be spotlighted for everyone to see wherever you go. Kids will point and ask their mothers what’s wrong with you. You’re just so obvious.”

I get closer to the door, within Babble’s reach of its long, tree-branch arms. It straightens up, looks down at me with that eyeless face and its voice lowers a whole octave, the demonic smile reaching its ears.

“Everyone will know what you did to yourself and realize how pathetic of a human being you are. You weren’t your parents’ perfect child so you drove yourself to depression. Here. Is that the best excuse you’ve got? No death of someone you loved? No physical trauma that left you immobile? No family poverty? You’re just a stupid, privileged little brat who got its feelings hurt too bad from disappointing mommy and daddy. You have hidden from every opportunity to grow since then because you don’t want to do something wrong or mess something up for someone else. You barely leave your room or see anyone. You can barely hold your job even though it’s remote; you don’t even have to see anyone face to face. Scraping by with life. You have done absolutely nothing for yourself since then” Razor teeth dribble with saliva and the snake-tongue flicks as it leans in closer to me, “You are literally useless.”

The words wrap tightly and heavily in my chest and I pause right in front of the doorway. Big mistake. Babble’s arm shoots out, grabs my wrist, and throws me to the cell wall, its claws raking against skin as it lets me fly into the cement. Air leaves my lungs in a huff as I crumple to the floor. Babble is in front of me in an instant, picks me up by my wrists and pins them to the wall behind me with one hand, lifting me off the floor. My breath returns and I try desperately to regain my death-glare as I stare back into that black faceless face. I can feel a warm liquid running down my arm. Its tongue flicks, its grin long and wide, but I’m not fazed. It raises a clawed finger to the corner of my right eye near the bridge of my nose.

“Don’t cry, little one. The truth hurts,” Babble hisses, and it presses into my skin, drawing down the side of my nose and over my lips. Blood blooms from the trace it made and I growl. Its head dips down next to my ear and whispers in that double-toned voice, “I’m honestly surprised you’re not dead yet. How have you lasted this long?” 

This is the point where I would break. My lips would quiver, I would let out a whimper, and tears would flow big and fast down my cheeks. Babble would caress my face softly and trace the various scars all over my body. Once I was bawling it would wrap me in chilling embrace. The weight in my chest would grow heavier and heavier until I could no longer hold myself up. I would curl into a ball and try with vain attempt to scream the darkness out of me. The blood vessels in my face would pop and freckle my face with red blotches and bruise my eyes. Babble would suddenly vanish, the door would still be open, and the weight in my chest would keep me pinned to the floor until that moment was just a memory. No. I’ve made up my mind this time. That is never going to happen again.

“You’re in for more surprises,” I retort, my eyes blazing with a new fire. There’s a confidence in my voice that neither of us had ever heard before. I feel a sudden wave of confusion pass over Babble and use that opportunity to send a powerful kick to its stomach. It doubles over onto the floor as I drop to my feet. I stand taller than ever and I can tell this creature is slightly intimidated.

“You-“

“It’s my turn to do the talking,” I interrupt. A low, irritated hum rumbles from Babble. It tries to get back up as I stroll toward it, but I push it back down with my foot. It crab-walks backward to get out of my space, and I follow it closely.

“You’re right. I’m a piece of trash human being. I fear failure, especially failing others. I would have died a long time ago with how much it got to me over the years. But you know the one thing that’s been trapping me here on this earth is the one fact that you never talk about.” I stop and Babble stops too as its back hits the wall on the other side of the cell. It stays on the floor, but it doesn’t get up. And surprisingly, very surprisingly, it doesn’t say anything. I take a deep breath.

“I am loved,” I admit, “I have family who love me unconditionally, no matter how much I disappoint them. Dying would be the ultimate disappointment. I could never do that to those who cherish me.”

“Cherish you?” Babble laughed, “Who in the world would put in the effort to do that? You mope around and do nothing. You’re just wasting space.”

“You know what, I don’t know why. And at this point, I don’t care that I don’t know. I’m just sick of being here. Sick of this place, sick of being tortured by constant sadness, sick of you.” Babble flinches and its wide mouth curls into a frown.

“I’m ready to get out of here. I’m ready to put effort into my life. I want to be happy and experience new things…”

“You’re going to fail. You have too much catching up on life to do you’ll be so overwhelmed. People are going to stare at you and what you’ve done to yourself. You’re going to get all that attention and pity you don’t want. And all the while you’ll still walk about the earth as a disappointment,” Babble added.

“I accept it. I’ll be fine,” I say, “And I’m truly leaving this time.” I turn towards the door and walk towards it, taking a big breath.

Babble leans against the wall, propping an arm up on its knee to use as a headrest.

“Don’t be gone too long. I’ll be here waiting for you. I’ll always be waiting for you,” Babble said slyly, its smile creeping back onto its face. I force myself to not look back at my decade-long cellmate.

“I intend on never coming back again,” I simply say, “I pray you just become a bad memory.” Then I walked through the glowing door.

——

The door to my bedroom creaks open as I walk through and into the bright hallway of my childhood home. I look around to see all the windows open to let the fresh afternoon breeze through the house. Trees sway and shiver outside, their white flowers in bloom. The house feels light and airy and slightly… empty? Is no one home? Relief washes over me as I hear faint voices on the porch out front. Relief… wow, what a feeling. And surprisingly, relief to know there’s someone around. A spike of fear pricks my chest for a moment. "What will they think when they see you?” Babble whispers in my head. I quickly shake it off, reminding myself to push through, and my newfound determination quenches my anxiety. I make my way down the hall and down the stairs to the front door. I reach for the handle and pause for a moment. My eyes close and I take a deep breath. So many deep breaths today. So many baby steps to take.

“This is the new you walking through this door. You can face them, you can start over. You got this,” I whisper to myself. I grasp the handle and open the door. Beyond the covered porch was a deep green lawn I know my dad cut and watered this morning. My mom’s colorful flowerbed is blooming beautifully around the porch perimeter too. The voices go silent suddenly and my eyes draw to my right. My parents are sitting together on the bench swing with empty cups of coffee in their laps, staring at me with surprised looks on their faces. Their hair is definitely more gray than I remember and they look a bit more weathered than usual. Man, I really must have been deep in my own head to not recognize that.

“Good afternoo-,” I manage to croak out before my mother almost bowls me over with a hug. Dad is right behind her. They embrace me in their arms and I feel warmth wash over me. The shrinking weight in my chest completely melts away and I feel tears rolling freely down my face.

“We knew you’d walk out this front door again some day,” Mom whispers though her own tears, “We just never knew when.” The three of us smile, and embrace, and cry together. A cry that isn’t weighted with never-ending sorrow, but one that is light with joy and relief and… steadfast, overwhelming love.