The Secret Keeper #154

Exhausted but unable to sleep, can’t get things off my mind this night. It just crossed my mind I may never be able to sleep well again. Thoughts of whys and hows and whys again keep swirling in my brain. Is this why people take drugs, to just blank their minds? I’ve done it for pain, but thinking back to that, it never really worked that well. Just like these thoughts, I can’t put anything out of my mind completely.

Never, a word people use to tell you what they would not do, no matter what, no matter what. . .that’s what I thought, I’ve said it, too. I meant it at the time, at least I think I did. Never would I go so far as I did today, never.

A person can only take so much a friend advised. That was her way of compensating me, trying to make me feel okay about my actions. But I saw her initial reaction. Even she, as my closest confidante, my oldest friend. . .I saw her face when she knew, knew what I did, knew the real me. For once in our lives, what she might have suspected all along, all these years, that I was capable of crossing this line, committing horrible acts.

I suppose I could have blamed everything on my health, my loneliness, my sorrow at events of my life. I could rely on people trying to justify my actions today, but they shouldn’t. They never knew the real me, what really happened, years ago, what made me this way. I’ve always been good at disguising my feelings. As a child when it was imperative to do so, I learned well how to hide them. It was survival, even though I didn’t know what that word meant at the time, it was instinctive to hide, cover, be what they wanted.

It wasn’t the thrill I must have thought in some warped way, completing the kill, acting out the secret fantasies I kept to myself all this time, it wasn’t anything but a disappointment. It didn’t heal anything. In fact I think now it’s worse than ever. I now have not only my own past that plagues me, but theirs also, or at least part of it. It was the surprise on their faces, the quick realization the devil they created came to collect. I mistakenly thought that would be the end of it; I would be free because they would be gone forever. How horrible now to know I’ll never be free in my mind, ever. I am what they created, fulfilled to the point I became worse even than what they were.

Weekly Writing Prompt #154

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