Trembling With Fear 09/19/21

Mind Shadow by Nathan Chu

“You can feel it, can’t you? It’s like a black satin cloth, all folded up and tucked between books on a shelf, only, you let a corner hang out, because one day you might need it. Keep it out of view, but leave a tag so you can snatch it up.

“It’s that dark well at the back of your brain, the place you shy away from when you sleep. You know you want that blackness, those thoughts that bubble up into your dreams, but you’re afraid you’ll tumble down the well, so you steer clear of it and huddle around your night light.

“Maybe something’ll creep up on you while you’re sleeping, so you keep your back to the light and watch it, watch it until you doze off into a half sleep. You never wonder if there’s something down there cowering and waiting for you to drop down.

“I first fell down in elementary school. I woke up propped against the basketball court wall. It was an outdoor one, with a roof, a kind of drab blue metal. Each hoop was bolted to the end walls, but there weren’t any walls running the court length-wise. The floor was a smooth concrete, very different from the rest of the playground’s asphalt.

“I must have run outside during class since there was no one around me. It was a cold day, gray skies, slight breeze. My arms hurt the most, all cold and sore.

“When I tried getting back into the building, all the doors were locked, so I had to climb the fence and go around to the front entrance which had had its glass shattered. When I knocked on my classroom door, my teacher rushed out and grabbed me. She screamed at me in that hoarse whisper that people get when they try to be quiet. Apparently there was a gunman on campus. 

“They found his body in the basketball court. It had been dragged there.

“It happened like that a lot. I’d wake up with my hands and arms freezing, tingling. I’m not a narc, I’d just black out. My memory at least.

“I think the first time I was aware of what was happening was in middle school, eighth grade to be precise. We were sitting in the back of class, that was back when I still sat on top of the desks or backwards in a chair. I don’t know what we were talking about, but she just wouldn’t shut up and let me speak, so I slapped her.

“It wasn’t a hard slap, more like a tap, like a “let me speak for a second.” Of course she slapped me back, a lot harder. But that didn’t really bother me. Instead of being angry or feeling panicked, it was just a coolness. I didn’t really care what happened.

“That’s the way it was. I’d get a certain distance away from what was happening. Not like disassociation, no. I was still very much in my body, just… dispassionate. You understand, right?  I can tell you do. You didn’t even flinch before. That’s why I’m telling you this.

“It’s useful, isn’t it? It helps when dealing with things, that detachment. You just don’t care much about what’s going to happen, how people are going to view you or what’s going to happen to them.

“It helped me win quite a few sparring matches in school. Did you know that punching the solar plexus is a rather bad move? If you’re going to punch, throw for the face. Not being able to breathe for a few seconds is hard, but a broken nose is harder.

“Ah, sorry. You already know that, right? I guess I did just show you. He was a perfect example, just like those brutes in high school. Came at me without any guard, what an easy target. 

“Are you climbing back out? Your eyes are darting all over now. It must be rough feeling your blood rush back into your body, all those little pinpricks, all those pesky emotions that you felt so calm without. Are you scared or interested? Or maybe both? It’s so troublesome to climb out.

“Him? Oh, him. What about him?

“Am I worried? No.

“Yes, even if they find him or when he wakes up. I imagine they’ll rush him to a hospital first though.

“The people? What will they think when they find out? It doesn’t really matter. I don’t care what they think. It’s not like they ever try and stop me or even say anything. Who cares if I knock someone off the street? They don’t care, I don’t care, unless they’re too scared to tell me, and then they don’t matter in the first place.

“You can walk through an entire city and not meet anyone willing to speak their mind or let their body move, at least not on their own. Oh, people can do it in groups, but if you make one person back down?

“Some people can stand up, like that man over there. That doesn’t bother me. They can handle what I throw at them. But it’s their fault if they decide they can’t after all. It’s even worse when they think they can and can’t.

“So why am I telling you this? It occurred to me that I’d like to share this freedom with someone, the way that things just slide off. It’s good for your health, gets rid of that tension, lets you slide down that well and be who you really are.

“You’re curious, right? After all, you’re still here. Instead of screaming and running, you’re here, listening to me.

“Think about it, think about that man over there. You’re not happy being around him, right? I saw how you were around him, cowering, shying away when he yelled at you to shut up. What if you just didn’t listen, didn’t care?

“I could see it in your face when I beat him down. You felt relaxed, didn’t you? It’s his fault for stopping me when I was just minding my own business and his fault for getting up again. It’s his fault for everything that happens, right?

“It’s his fault he didn’t protect you from this creepy man in the alley. It’s his fault for being weak and taking his frustrations out on you. Why do you need to feel for him?

“Come, let me tell you how to stop hiding from the dark.”