A Quite Unrestful Rest
Something just based off of feelings.
Serenity lay in her bed quite wrapped up in the peace that sleep will put you in. She was enjoying the solitary joy that a dream induced when upon a tickle of the ear, she was awakened from her slumber by a sound. She stirred looking to the window and saw that the black curtains stood still like guardians of the window. Her door still lay open up to the point in which the slant of her house drew it open. There was something not quite right about the sound, it had been familiar. It reminded her of the sound she thought a dying soul would make.
"Hello?" she asked the night air not quite expecting, or wanting, a response.
"Why?" she asked mainly to preoccupy the stranger and give her time.
"I come to give you rest." The voice sounded calm, as though it knew her.
She laughed and then exclaimed louder than she wanted "How do you plan to do that? What kind of rest should I desire?"
"The kind that heals your scars."
She sat at the edge of her bed and that is where she stopped and felt a tremble course through her mind like a tidal wave. And like a tsunami, it raged through her body only leaving destruction in her veins.
"You are not happy and therefore, I am summoned to give you rest." The voice said more in command now.
"How would you know how I feel? You know nothing." She hung her head and closed her eyes.
"I know of your past, I know of your fears, I know of your scars, and I know of every word of every story you have told yourself in your mind as a justification of your actions." It was said to her like a way of scolding her. She let the shadows drip over her body.
"You are tired, and I come to give you rest." Serenity stood up suddenly and glared into the darkness.
"The kind of rest I need is the kind you cannot give!" She shouted and took a step closer.
"I can and I will. Why are you so afraid?" The words stopped her in her tracks.
"I am not!" She said as a defiant child.
"So you think hiding is a good thing to do?" said her impatient mother.
"I only hide my weakness to make me stronger," Serenity said again looking down.
"Yet it only tears you apart."
"I am afraid of being judged before they know me," The words whispered out of her lungs with a will of their own.
"That's a start."
"I look in the mirror every day and wonder if I could rip off the top layer on my skin."
"And in the shower?"
"I turn it on to the highest setting and sit there until my skin turns red and I wonder if I could burn myself."
"Quite interesting, do you suppose most people have these thoughts as well?"
"Do you suppose other people have my scars?!" She cried angrily.
"So you suppose you are the only one who feels the same way do you?" the shadow said gently now.
"The scars that I have. The inner burdens I carry." Serenity carried on ignoring the last question. Her mind took over. "The fact that I cannot see myself as being beautiful. The fact that I cannot tell anybody because I am afraid of them knowing. The fact that I cannot go outside without wearing a mask of make-up because I am afraid of anybody seeing me." She began crying. Her shoulders shook heavily and she sometimes chocked upon her words. "The fact that whenever I am around the only man who has ever loved me and I have ever loved, I shut off and close up because I cannot let him in."
"Good. Maybe someday you will learn and you will rest."
"I hate you!" She yelled angrily and ran into the shadows. She ran to where the voice came from. She had to stop quickly when she almost ran into herself sobbing from the other side of a mirror.