94 | The Devil's Command

𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐄 

The harshest thing that could happen to a woman like me was hope. Hope meant dismay. Hope meant defeat, a drawback. A descent to the deepest pits of hell. I learned long ago to never harbor any kind of hope when it came to my life. To never wish for anything more. But there was always that time within a dream, the time when reality clawed its way into your mind, ready to rip you away from the fantasy your unconscious psyche created for you. And it was only during this time that all my defenses were down.

No compartmentalizing.

No secret compartments were pushed to the back of my mind.

No turning off my humanity.

There was no controlling anything during those moments of complete vulnerability…and that was where I was now. At that moment. In that vortex of color that would soon suck me back into the dark hole, I'd come to call my existence.