Darkness Lay Ahead



  Darkness Lay Ahead

  by Baheya Zeitoun

  Copyright ©2015 by Baheya Zeitoun. All rights reserved.

  This e-book is licensed. Any reproduction of this book is strictly prohibited.

  Darkness Lay Ahead

  It was decided. The day would come when she would leave her prison-like home and lead a life of her own. Without worrying about the expectations of anyone but herself, she would shed her old skin and fashion a new life from the ruins of her old one. She wasn’t sure exactly when that day would come or when she would have the courage to take that life-altering step, but she knew in her heart that it would happen. How and when were not important.

  She was not rich or poor. She was not stunning or ugly, neither brilliant nor stupid. She was just a regular girl; a girl with a lot of ambition and an overwhelming sense of hope. But day after day that hope began fading away. She walked, talked, worked, went through her daily routine with her hope chipping off with every step. She didn’t notice it at first; however it hit her once on her way back from work that the only thing keeping her alive was slowly disappearing right before her eyes. It might seem trivial to some, but to her it meant more than could be put into words.

  She hoped for independence. To follow her own rules and not do what was expected of her from her family and society as a whole. Her family was kind and loving, but they had never understood her. Their values and norms had become suffocating. Their practicality was her death. Issues that were natural for them were intolerable for her. For five years they had been living in debt; a debt that compelled them to sell their most valued and most valuable belongings. It forced her to pursue a job she was not interested in, rather than a career she would be passionate about. And it still wasn’t enough. As the crushing interest overweighed the debt itself, they were caught in an endless whirlpool that continuously sucked their income. Quickly her dreams and desires became irrelevant. Once the monthly bank notice arrived in the mail, any step she tried to take towards bettering her future was wiped away like a wave erasing wet footprints in the sand.

  As she walked through the streets and watched the people going about their lives she grew irritated. And when she thought about the social structure she was obliged to be a part of, she felt nauseated. In a culture of supposed to and not supposed to, she screamed ‘I want’. But her screams were not heard and her wishes, along with others’, were overlooked. Thus, no one could understand why she regularly cried at night alone in her room. No one could believe that her situation occasionally lead to nervous breakdowns. No one saw it or really saw her. Therefore the more she struggled, the more she was confided to this entrapment.

  Many alleged they knew what’s best for her better than she did. From where they claimed that arrogant right, she didn’t understand. It was as if her future, much like her past and her present, was predetermined by fate or by others. And she was nothing more than a tool that would move the process along, without having any say in the matter. She was constantly talked down to, as if she had little intellect and virtually no comprehension of her own life; like a child. Even when she was given advice out of good intention, she rejected it. Not because she’s above it, but because she could no longer tolerate being told what others believe was in her best interest. She fought for what she believed and struggled to break free from the eyes and minds of those surrounding her, while living among them. But all her attempts always ended in failure.

  Failure was a constant in her life. A shadow cast over her; moving along with every step she took. It nailed itself deep into her soul, haunting and intimidating her. With it came self-loathing and huge waves of depression. It occasionally hindered her ability to interact with people and perform tasks at work, however that was rare. For the most part work and socializing were distractions, a way of momentarily forgetting the endless hole created by her depreciating mood and desperate situation. While she would not be considered a failure in the traditional sense, the fear of it alone was enough to put her in a melancholy state. The fear of failure hung over head wherever she went making taking any decision an impossible endeavor. She would have to think and rethink ten steps ahead, which ultimately exhausted her and resulted in her indecisiveness. Thus her shackles remained intact, weighing her down and forcing her to submit. But it was really her duty towards her family and the judging eyes of society that put her in place.

  She defiantly accepted her situation, always believing it was temporary. In the mean time she distanced herself as much as possible. Sealed herself behind an iron fort of her own creation, letting very few near it and no one surpass it. She watched the world from behind her impenetrable gates and wished for a way to unlock them. Therefore her presence was felt by nearly no one. While she was technically alive, she never existed. She was vapor; evaporating through the walls of every room she entered, and creeping out from under any door without anyone realizing or even noticing. She wondered occasionally if she had ever really been alive, if her pseudo-existence meant anything to anyone but herself.

  The distance she kept forced her to live in an atmosphere of distrust. She tread lightly around those she interacted with, in fear of making mistakes or getting too close. Thinking a hundred times before uttering a single phrase, because she knew that words cannot be unsaid and regret was far worse than remaining silent. The dread of revealing more than she had allowed herself was overwhelming. Even though there were a few she considered trustworthy, there was still no one she trusted as much as herself. She relied on her instincts to guide her. A concept most fitting for animals, infants and the ignorant; those with a lower mental capacity that cannot withstand rational thinking; however she found it to be a strong foundation. Rationality and logic, while necessary for complex decisions, could be manipulated. They were dry and lack emotion. Emotions on the other hand were too fluid and could easily be misleading. But instincts were intuitive; they were basic to the point that they were occasionally inexplicable. That feeling in someone’s gut telling them that something wasn’t right was more powerful than a well-rounded argument to the contrary. And that undeniable force was enough to drive her towards what was beyond her reach; it provided her with strength to venture without needing to trust another soul. Therefore she concealed her true self and shut out the world in hopes of one day starting over and being able to face it. A fraud was what she was and what she chose to be for the majority of the time. She lived in a perfectly crafted fable, so intricately woven that it wouldn’t allow anything in or out. Nonetheless, however untrue her exterior may be she had power within.

  On various scattered occasions she would open-up to a friend or two. Anxious about their reactions she was cautious of what to say and how it would be said. She maintained her image quite eloquently that imagining the extent of what lies beneath the surface was impossible. She was considered easy to read; a bold, straight-forward, outspoken person with nothing to hide. But her true complexity was only understood by those who never claimed to know her. Nonetheless no matter what people’s perceptions were the play continued. Reciting her lines and meticulously adjusting her wardrobe, she put on a show every day for everyone to see. Only in the safety of her own solitude did she remove all her masks, let down her hair and see her real face in the mirror; a face too fragile to expose. She was a mysterious combination of extreme inner strength veiled with a delicate membrane hidden behind thick concrete.

  Away from her immediate surroundings while still within them, she lived in a self-created world which stretched as far as her mind’s boarders could reach. Her imagination was fertile and her mind had no boundaries, so her internal travels knew no limits. She withdrew her consciousness from her present reality to lose herself in her thoughts. And spent an inordinate amount
of time in extended dialogues with herself, trying to make as much sense as possible of a situation, an incident or her next step. That happened anywhere and under any circumstances. It was her way of filling her boredom or fleeing. It wasn’t until she returned to her normal state that she realized how much she couldn’t bare the life she led.

  Her inability to accept or even tolerate her life stemmed from the feeling of being an outsider. A strong feeling of not belonging that forced her into exile. She was thus a lonely person, even when she was among those she cared for the most; she was surrounded by everyone, but with no one. Her loneliness acted as both a companion and a prison-warden. It provided her with an ambiguous type of friendship and no way out. It was an all-consuming force that suffocated as well as protected her. It was only when she was truly alone, that she didn’t feel very lonely. That usually happened in sleep.

  She eventually found herself sleeping for extended periods of time. While there was no real reason behind her exhaustion, she still found great comfort in her bed. Her eyelids would eventually grow heavy and even though she may be mentally awake, her eyes would refuse to remain open. Sleep provided her with solace; a peace she couldn’t find elsewhere and an escape from the reality she despised. Under the covers, sheltered by the dark of the night and the quiet of her room, was where she could be herself. It was unnerving having to live a lie; conforming to strict values that were not her own. She was cautious of every word she said and every move she made, hoping that her fraudulence would not be discovered. But surrounded by the night she was free. The darkness had always been her friend. It welcomed her and accepted her. It was an outlet where her dreams could develop. So she waited fervently for the night to come, knowing that that was when her day truly began. In a world of endless dreams, she wasted away; certain that wouldn’t and couldn’t last.