“What is this, huh?” Doubt asked
kneeling down next to where I was sprawled out on the ground again. “Do you
really think you can do this?” He asked “Come on, let’s be serious, how many
people actually achieve what you’re going for huh?”
You know, I’d always thought hell
was a place somewhere far away, but right now I was surrounded by demons. Fear,
Doubt, Despair, and Anger… Maybe it wasn’t as far away as I thought. There were
others of course, other demons who kept me company, but tonight they were the
ones to haunt me.
Doubt was looking down at me
expectantly, waiting for an answer I couldn’t give. Could I do it? Could I achieve
the dreams I’d always thought and talked about? Right now it seemed like that’s
exactly what they were. Dreams. Nothing more than idea that wouldn’t make it
past an old coffee stained notebook.
“I think he’s afraid.” Fear said
with a chuckle, he seemed to be enjoying my suffering, he always enjoyed it. “He’s
worried about failing, most people in his position are,” he continued pacing in
circles around me. “He wants to know what happens if he fails? Should he have a
backup plan? Where will he be if things don’t pan out the way he thought they
would…?”
“So many questions,” Despair chimed
in “Seems a little… overwhelming doesn’t it? Heh… So overwhelming in fact you
might as well just give up and, I don’t know… Go to college for something you
don’t wanna do, seems to be the trend these days.”
“No…” I said looking up at them I
didn’t want to give up.
“Shut up!”
Anger yelled kicking me in the side making me yelp, “Just stop! You can’t do
it! You can’t do it! YOU CAN’T DO IT!” He kicked me with every “I can’t”
I told
myself that enough, I didn’t need to hear it from him. Tears started to blur my
vision, my head lowered, my forehead resting on the ground. I lay there
weeping. There I was again, in that same old position.
Who was I kidding?
Me? Become a writer…? HA! There I was thinking Fear acted crazy. They were
right… All of them… I thought back on all the times I’d written stories as a
kid, handing the scribbles to my parents. All those times people had asked me
what I wanted to be when I grew up, I’d always say, “I wanna be a writer.”
I thought
about how lucky I’d been, I didn’t have to go anywhere and find out who I was because
I knew… I’d always known exactly who I was. I was a writer.
“No you
aren’t…” Doubt said reading my thoughts “Just cause you like to write stories
doesn’t make you a published author, have you ever actually read a published
book before? What on earth makes you think you can go out and compete with the
greats?”
“But…” I
muttered sobbing into the ground. Why were they always so right?!
“You can’t
do it…” Doubt smiled.
“You can’t
do it.” Said Despair.
“You can’t
do it!” Said Fear.
“YOU CAN”T
DO IT!” Anger roared.
“You can.”
For just a moment, everything was silent and tranquil.
“You can do
it.” Said the mysterious voice again. I raised my head up slowly, blinking away
the tears. There sitting in front of me was somebody I’d never seen before. He
was different from the others, he seemed… Nice. He was smiling but it wasn’t an
evil smile it was kind.
“Who…who
are you?” I whispered.
“My name is
Hope.”
“I’ve never
seen you before…” I said, looking him over, he gave me another kind smile.
“Maybe you
didn’t see me, but I was always here. After all, if you had completely given up
neither of us would be here right now.”
I stared at him, confused by
his words. He must have noticed because he stood up and then held out his hand.
“Let me
show you.” He said, I looked at his hand, it was right there but… I’d been on
the ground for so long, beaten by my demons, it’d been so long. Did I even know
how to stand?
“Come on,
take my hand, and get up.” Hope said, his smile kind but his voice now firm. He
wasn’t going to just let me lay there. So I reached up, and grabbed his hand.
Slowly, I was
pulled up, strength I didn’t know I had flowing through me. I’d forgotten what
it was like to stand…
That’s when
I realized the ground wasn’t ground at all.
“Do you see
now?” Hope asked gesturing all around. I nodded slowly, I was standing on the
pages of a massive book. On the other page, words were writing themselves, they
were writing my story.
“Sometimes,
all you have to do is stand,” Hope said “This is your story, and no one else’s,
don’t you dare let someone else write it.”
Points: 487
Reviews: 107
Donate