MOTH IN FOUR CORNERS

Submitted into Contest #27 in response to: Write a short story that ends with a twist.... view prompt

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Mystery

I had a dream that jolted me awake in consideration of it. Four silvery illuminated moths had entered her home, each claiming a corner of the squared structure. 

What did this mean?

She was dead, and had been for awhile. 

This, utterly, surprised me when I found myself in a position of need. I seeked her out, but she was gone, almost a year after our last visit. I began a new path in life-moving along with the new year. This somehow had taken me away from her.

Some would think poor of me knowing I didn't notice our separation. Life moved me, swiftly, along its conveyor belt, presenting urgent situations and debilitating circumstances. My immediate response was demanded. 

Twenty-four hours proved to be not enough for me to keep up with my own percolating life. There was no time in between to give to anyone beyond self. 

It takes deliberate focus and decided intentions to gain the most from opportunity. Too many things were happening. I could have remained overwhelmed after being attacked, or I could have fought back with truth. 

She didn't know this. 

Separation is needed at times, and can be chosen, while other times it happens beyond earthly control. 

The feeling I had when I looked and didn't find her was indescribable. It was akin to seeking a favorite blanket, or pair of slippers to no avail. I was going to comfort myself within her presence, yet she was no longer available. I'm not saying I miss her. Let me explain how her life and death affected me.

We met when I was a young dreamer, back when I believed not even the sky was a limit. I was going to be an astronaut. She planned to be safe and secure.  

She experienced abrupt changes at a young age. Her mother left her father, moving her and a newly born baby brother from a busy city to a rural urban city, where she met the rest of her small maternal family; grandmother, aunt, first born brother. She was dislocated; a foreign naive bird that happened to have migrated along with her Momma bird to the wrong place at the wrong time. Like a virus in a well established program, she was rejected. 

We walked alone, together, in elementary school, middle school, and high school with her feeling outcast. I was useless in helping her feel better. 

Let's call her, Eve, to conceal her identity. 

Eve was a sweetheart beneath the monster she became, eventually. She had been over-hit, over-exposed to mockery and criticism, and under-engaged in activities and actions that felt great. Eve wanted to feel good in life, to know without a doubt, for once, that she was loved by the Creator. This, she told me when we left home for college. She believed she needed to obtain success against all odds to be considered worthy.

Friends desire happiness for each other, right?

I'm happier without her, now that she is gone.

I know this sounds, extremely, terrible. It gets worse. Read on.

No longer do I have to hear about what this one and that one did to her. She met a young man, she thought she loved, who loved being inside of her more than he did being with her. Very fragile, she was. This idea caused her to crumble, feeling overbaked after being filled with watery substitutes for love. She tried so hard to be whomever he wanted her to be. At first, she was a playmate, spending almost every second with him-even started slacking in school to provide more time. It wasn't until much later in Eve's life when she realized the unattractive trait of bending over backwards trying to please another person. 

I thought it was a good idea when she decided not to give her heart to anyone else, again. I didn't know she was going to put it in a glass jar on a shelf. I asked her if she intended for it to represent a trophy, showing the hundreds of bruises throughout it. Or, was she trying to protect it?

I'm not sure. I was on the outside looking in. Eve didn't know, either. All she knew was she was tired of being hurt. 

Just before Eve's mother died, she endured critical judgments from herself relating to what she then referred to as life. She was further away from success than she had been before she attended the University. Success, she determined, wasn't located in a book or a classroom. Even though, she was certain about where success was not, she was clueless about where it was. The two young children she gave birth to before graduation, were growing and desiring to have things she believed she couldn't afford. Limits pained her.

Eve totally hated limits, boundaries, and restrictions. I thought this was funny because she was born on the cusp of Capricorn and Aquarius making Saturn the predominant ruler of her zodiacal sign. Old father time didn't care what Eve preferred. Every second of her life, at this point, she felt trapped between what needed to be accomplished and her ability to accomplish.

This squeezed the life out of her. She lost weight, then her hair. This was a blow to the once extremely beautiful female's self-esteem. As a target, she was already unsteady. Saturn tore her asunder when it returned to her fifth house for a second cycle during her timeline. Seven years had passed with her feeling and acting like a victim, haphazardly. It was time for Eve to move forward-ready or not. 

I believe this is why her mother died when she did. Eve held so much inside about her. Sad memories smothered the fire she attempted to kindle leaving her dormant in ashes of aspirations. 

It is, now, that she has ceased to be as she once was, when I am able to examine close details of Eve. I detect a greater plan orchestrating. 

Back then, like a fired missle, I wanted to travel to space to negotiate for her, although this would have been useless. 

Eve received an eviction notice on the day of her mother's wake. Then shortly after, her three year old son returned to his father. I understood her feeling disgruntled. At the same time her daughter was struggling kindergarten. Eve blamed herself for being more focused on misery than on surviving. She wanted to die.

I felt compelled to help my friend, Eve. She was tired of feeling miserable. She was tired of not knowing how to move forward in her life. She, absolutely, hated the feeling fear. It felt bad, looked bad, and was bad for her health. She was made aware of this through sharing life with her mother. 

Intelligent people don't fear, she believed. She wanted to use logic, intentions, and decisions to design a better experience. Being without wisdom, she lacked ability.

Wisdom and knowledge are not the same.

Eve had to die, and she did. I couldn't let her continue to live as she had. She was angry with who-knows-who, rebellious against who-knows-what, and down right cynical about everything. 

She dragged me down to her level of perception. I started to separate from familiarity. I had to kill her. 

If I was normal, I would ask, like yourself, what kind of person kills their friend, and then celebrate the success? To answer this in short, ME. I killed a friend who needed to be killed. 

Eve was a part of me. She was the portion who developed through many many many hardships. She was born through the beliefs developed at this time. She made me crazy. I intended to heal. This is why she had to die. New Year's provided a clean slate of time to exercise newly acquired information to my life.  

True love is integration of all that appears to be separate. As for me and Eve, love meant we needed to become whole, together. She represented a split within my self where I kept tally of pain.

I no longer wanted to hurt. I needed to heal. I applied truth to the situation. This is how, and why I reminded her, she wasn't separate from me. I embraced her, consuming the illusion of separation, confirming she wasn't alone. The tighter I held, the least she resisted. Before I knew it, she was gone. I'd been too busy working on my connection with myself to notice. 

It wasn't until I quit a fruitless job when I found need to seek out Eve.

Rent was past due. My SUV needed work. The water was disconnected and the electricity soon would be. For a moment, I believed I was afraid. This is when I looked for Eve, but she was gone. I desired escape, but this time I knew there was none-and no need for there to be. 

I, like Eve, didn't like how life was going. Again, I had more responsibility than I had resources. This reflected beliefs that were contrary to my preferences. 

Recognizing my state of being as I navigate through the waters of my life is success I cherish. Every moment is opportunity. This is worth knowing. 

Eve died. 

In-fine!


February 05, 2020 21:16

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