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Creative Nonfiction

In the beginning, you are in a good safe space. And in your space is perfect darkness. And the darkness contains a pulse of life, which surrounds and nurtures yourself and your sisters. There are many of you, very many - a whole crowd. You live in your space, content to solely be, unadventurous, safely nestled together. Just every now and again, at regular intervals, one of your community is chosen to make her way forth into a new unknown. None of you know why this is the way, or what comes afterwards, but you each accept that it is a good and right way and are eager for your turn. In the meantime you all huddle in your extraordinary world, keeping each other company. You have everything that you need and demand no more than you have. For the time being, your whole world is in this perfectly dark safe space. It is all good, and happiness fills you all.


The day comes that you are the one chosen to leave for the unknown, and so you venture forth, slowly travelling and wondering what will happen to you on your journey. The way is dark but still you feel secure, with the caring life pulse all around you, accompanying you on your lone journey.


A million suitors come and surround you. They flirt shamelessly, trying to tempt you to let down your guard and melt the barriers to your soul. You see one that is exactly suited to you, and as you yield to him, you build a protective shield around the both of you, to keep the other suitors away. He is yours, and the both of you become one together, and you become him.


In your joy, you laugh, and your laughter grows you. As you dance in your dark space you evolve and become more. The more of you both are one together, and they are you. The pulse holds you safely and you become more and even more of you. You continue your journey and find yourself in a new dark space. You snuggle into the cushioned walls and sleep in comfort. The pulse nurtures you. You awake and revel in the agility that you have. You enjoy yourself bobbing and bouncing around. The pulse is always there and you begin to hear new noises alongside it. There is a whooshing and a sloshing and one noise in particular that seems to soothe you. This is the one that you feel a very special affinity with and begin to love. You make a name for this noise that soothes you. You call it Mmmm. You sense that Mmmm is a part of you and that you are a part of Mmmm, and it is so good that you are this way.


The darkness recedes little by little. You begin to see shapes and you watch your toes. Your mouth discovers your hands. You like to suck the thumb that you found. You somersault and float and feel very happy just to be. You are full of peace and contentment and joy.


You sleep. You wake. You live. The soft pulsing sustains you continually. You listen, feel, watch, wait and learn, and you are blessed by the warm, cosy, nurturing.


But as your growth continues, you gradually fill your space until you feel constricted by it. The changes have left you with not enough room to somersault or dance any more. Turning around is hard work now, having to push against the cushioned walls which had felt so comfortable. Sleeping is still good but you are impatient for more freedom. There is little that you can do about it, so you lean hard against your prison, easing your position, and fall asleep, wake, turn, yawn, push your fists into the resisting surroundings and feel them give, do the same with your feet, wait.


You become aware of something foreign and unwelcome that disturbs and confuses you. Powerless to make it stop, you find yourself slipping away from your familiar cushioned walls. Whatever is happening is so forceful that you are brutally squeezed and moved. You can taste something nasty in your mouth. You would like to suck your thumb but your limbs have become mercilessly trapped by waves of painful squeeze, to the extent that you are unaware of the continuing life pulse that usually is a sure sign of safety.


Suddenly a new sensation surrounds your head. It is free of the squeeze but now there is a harsh cold nothing there instead. Your eyes register something that is not your familiar darkness, and it seems unkind and unsafe. The rest of your body follows your head into this new nothing which surrounds you. The nothing has a barely tangible gasping movement that brings with it a sour, hard smell and which makes your nose uncomfortable. You turn your head to and fro, seeking relief, and you discover that you can make a noise, unlike any noise that you ever heard before. Your noise pours forth from you, protesting against your loss and bemoaning the nasty things that have replaced your soft, warm, cradling darkness. You long for your cushioned walls. You hear other new noises that are not you. You discover that you can shiver and you shrivel inside. You reach for familiarity, flopping fists into the nothing, moving your feet outwards and finding more nothing. You are supported but no longer held as you had been before the squeeze. Your familiar sustaining pulse helps you feel a little better but you need more.


You see space that is amazingly big. And you hear the voice that you love. You look and see her wet eyes - wet like your body. You recognise that this is Mmmm but she is apart from you. Your body feels heavy and you yearn for comfort and warmth. You crave the closeness with her that you had. You know that you belong together. Aren't you a part of each other just as you had been with your suitor? Mmmm turns her eyes away as you are gazing at her. Your heart drops with a thud and begins to feel weak, fluttery. You really don't feel safe and you are on the verge of panic. Your limbs feel as if they are dissolving. The nurturing pulse suddenly ceases and it is a deadly shock. You do not know how to survive. You need help. What will happen to you next?


Something like her but not her lifts you up and through the horrible space, then lets go. You fall jumbled into a new space and a darkness bangs alarmingly into place above you, between yourself and the big space. You like darkness, but not here where the walls that now hold you are cold in their awful rigid smoothness. You know that what is happening is bad. You have lost her and she was your love. You have lost your nurturing pulse, your good warm safe cushion, everything good that you knew, and you are left with a vacuum. You try to cry out but your noise just won't happen and you are unable. You are miserably bereft. You stop.

July 09, 2020 16:01

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5 comments

Rema Teller
12:40 Jul 13, 2020

Hi Pamela, this is a wonderful story. I really enjoyed this interesting and surreal narrative. I really like the way you imagined a baby's feelings after leaving the womb obviously I don't remember it, none of us do, but it seemed realistic, almost an eerie level of empathy here. I felt like you could remember it! Really imaginative, I absolutely loved this idea and your writing was lovely. Just some constructive criticism. It's not clear what's happened in the last paragraph or so. I couldn't tell whether her mum died or not, or, the pu...

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Pamela Saunders
16:40 Jul 13, 2020

Thank you Rema, I'm appreciative of hearing that I could work harder at writing in a way that doesn't need explanation. Thank you for bringing it to my attention. The last paragraph, if the baby had been placed somewhere soft, warm, that would have been a cared-for baby. But the baby was let go, to fall into the new bad space. The new space at the end, obviously it's bad - it's hard, smooth, cold, and darkness banged over the top... it's a bin. The baby, for whatever reason, was unwanted and therefore uncared for. The pulse stopped when t...

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Batool Hussain
13:19 Jul 12, 2020

I am glad your daughter told you about this site because you have a very nice writing style. You really have a keen eye for details. Mind checking out my new story and giving your views on it? Thanks.

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Pamela Saunders
20:43 Jul 12, 2020

Thank you Batool :) I pretty much go down the entries in the category I entered, and pick out the ones that interest me most, so I may or may not get to yours. I'm sure to see you around the site anyway though. Good luck with your writing.

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Batool Hussain
04:07 Jul 13, 2020

Thanks.

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