The only thing that’s real.

This was the moment, my enemy was defeated. Yet my victory was hollow, empty.

Worthless.

I felt no sense of triumph. I could not cheer in celebration.

I had done murder for nothing.

The hammer slipped from my hands, my fingers losing their grip on the shaft, letting it fall to the floor with a clang. The noise rang in my ears, I was afraid I had broken a tile.

Or worse, woken somebody up. That would be bad. Trouble.

I sat down, the only place I could, counting my breaths.

In and out.

Exhale and inhale.

Control the system. Master the body. Rule the self.

The mind is above the flesh.

The words did not stop the fear running through my body. My heart raced. Blood pounded.

Something had to happen. I knew there was danger here.

I waited. Nothing. Just silence.

I looked at myself in the mirror. Focused on my eyes, I could see the pupils were open with excitement, signs of agitation.

Despite my efforts, what I kept telling myself, my fears were running rampant.

I had killed the spider, it was dead, body crushed, smashed, broken.

But what if there was another one?

In this house, somewhere, lurking, spinning its web. Even in this very bathroom, hiding up in a corner, looking at me with its eyes, thinking of how it could catch me, trap me in its web, suck away my vitals.

I couldn’t handle this alone. I wasn’t strong enough. I needed help.

I knew where to get it.

…

I walked down the hall, not turning on a light, I was confident in where I was going.

I didn’t want to see any more spiders, just in case. The ignorance of the darkness was my only shield, my thin layer of protection. A feeble defense.

The door I needed was open, it was always open to me. Never locked, never barred.

Not to me.

And there was a light on. He was reading. I liked that, I approved, it was a good thing for him to do in bed. Not like other stuff. Stuff I didn’t like. Like eating potato chips.

Disgusting stuff.

“Precious, do you need something?” he asked, not raising his eyes from his book.

“Daddy,” I said, “can I get in bed with you? I don’t feel safe.”

He looked at me, I knew what he was thinking. I was too big for this. I shouldn’t need him, I should be strong on my own. He should tell me to go back to my new room and relax.

He ought to make me grow up.

He put down his book, and patted the sheet next to him, and smiled.

“Come here, sweetie, I know it’s hard for you, I’m sure you’re scared, one night won’t hurt, but no making a habit of this.”

I got on the bed next to him, slid beneath the blankets, put my head on his shoulder. I felt his strength, his warmth, I knew I was safe here, right now.

“Thank you, Daddy, I needed this.”

His hand ran through my hair, down to my ear, touching the new piercing, I didn’t flinch. I let him touch me, let him soothe me, embraced the comfort he offered.

“What scared you?”

I turned my head, buried it in a pillow. Felt the cotton softness, tried to hide in it.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He gave me a kiss, right on the back of my head, and I heard him turn out the light.

He left me alone, a silent presence next to me. He was there for me. A guardian at my side.

It was enough for me to pass the gates into slumber.

…

I woke up alone.

My eyes saw only darkness. I no longer felt the mattress beneath me, the warmth of my father at my side. All gone.

I was no longer safe.

I rested on sand, cool and gritty, and bitter with the taste of salt in my mouth.

I knew where I was, I knew I had been called, that I had a purpose here.

But what I had I passed beneath, the horn or the ivory? That knowledge eluded me.

Perhaps they had twisted together, bending to mix truth and deception.

I could have wandered forever, seeking a destination in the gloom, but they came for me, as I knew they would.

“How could you think that was right?”

“Do you know what you’ve done?”

“I can’t believe you did that!”

“You’re a fool!”

“Monster!”

“Killer!”

“Idiot!”

I knew them well, recognized them easily, their voices were as familiar as my own.

I knew they would come for me, seek me out, hunt me down.

They had come to judge me. A jury of my peers, and even before the evidence had been presented, I was condemned. The conviction was secured. I knew I was guilty, I could not plea for innocence, not against myself.

“I’m sorry.” was all I could mouth.

“You think that matters?”

“We’ll never forgive you!”

“After what you’ve done!”

“You killed it!”

“You murderer!”

“You who…”

“That will be enough, girls.” A new voice, younger, softer, clearer. But I knew it too.

I dared to look in the direction of her voice, and saw her, sitting on a rock that stood up from the stand, dressed in white, surrounded by a light of her own, a light that let me see the others, dressed in black, their faces harsh, their eyes cold, as they stood around me in a circle.

She was smiling. Her dark hair glistened, her blue eyes shone, her lips were bright and warm.

“She knows what she did, she knows she did wrong, she would not be here, she could not come here until she admitted it.”

She patted the stone next to herself, the nails on her hand shining like silver pearls.

“Come child, come to me. Sit down, we’ll talk.”

I didn’t want to go to her, but I knew I had no choice. I could only go to her, and place myself at her side, and wait. I leaned against her, knowing she wanted that, wanted me close to her, still wanted me. Wanted me to surrender. That’s why she had come.

She waved to the others, and they faded away, disappearing into the gloom, leaving me alone.

“I know why you did it. I can understand being willing to pay the price. It will cost you.” she told me in her gentle voice.

I nodded in agreement. I couldn’t argue with her.

“And then there will be your punishment.”

She gave me a kiss, right on my forehead.

That’s when I began to hurt.