My Concussion Cave
What once was light with colour is now dark with fog. What once was the feeling of genuine happiness is now frustration and depression. She cannot go into a lit up room or listen to her favourite song without a sharp pain to her right temple. He is always there drilling into her brain causing an intolerable amount of agony, or sometimes he takes a break from drilling and uses a hammer. All she can notice is the constant ringing in her ears and the blurring of her vision.
She sits in a dark room for what feels like years. Time is no longer a peaceful constant but simply becomes a number that she watches tick by with each second. She wants to cry and scream all at once from the pure suffering he has caused. Why won’t he stop? What does he want? These are questions that she ponders as she continues to colour on blank pieces of paper in the pitch black. Her emotions try and reason with him but he gives them no answer and begins drilling again. She feels alone surrounded solely by pillows and blankets, but can only sleep for so long before her body lies dead awake.
All she wants is to be at school and running around on the field hockey pitch, but he won’t let her. He won’t let her eat, speak, walk, or think without his presence. He controls her with his puppets of mockery, flooding her mind with fog. Her mother is the one who can give her a spark of hope and keeps her sane. The mother explains that there is no saviour or immediate medicine but only time can cure her. That clock becomes something unexplainable and something so evil. Her reality is darkness with a blue light at the edge of the basement floor that reads her fate. She sits patiently waiting for him to stop and holds what her mother said close to her heart.
Slowly he begins to drill less frequently and her loyal emotion happiness, who she missed so dearly, begins to return. She goes back to school for half the day and is allowed to bike to get her legs moving. Seeing the smiles at school makes her feel whole again. Eventually he is gone, simply vanishes, and the fog dissipates like it was never there. Her emotions are no longer held prisoner, but free to roam. Time is now more than just a number and reality is open to her own optimistic interpretation.
By: Hailey Gayda