Not Alone

[Mithra]

Carl walked into the house, threw his backpack on the couch, and headed upstairs. He’d had a long day, and was looking forwards to some games with his cronies. He stopped off at the top of the stairs for a drink in the bathroom, then went into his room. He turned to shut the door behind him and stopped. “Ka…Ka…Katherine? But…” She put a finger to his lips. “Shush. You’ve heard the phrase ‘A woman scorned’?” He nodded, not getting it. She grimaced and pulled out the knife. “You should never have dumped me.” She hefted the knife. He screamed.

I throw the knife aside, watch his face as it hurtles past his ear to bury itself in the wall beyond. I don't hate him now. I look at his face. Stark terror looks back at me. I droop a little inside when I see myself reflect in his wild eyes. How is he supposed to understand me? I can't relate to him, nor he to me. Carl is a human, I am more. Far more. I focus on him again. He sees in me a monster, something evil. But how can love be wrong? I want him to understand. I want him to know the love and peace I've found. I try to show him. I open my mind, call myself. It's like falling into a river of nothing, yet everything. What is "me" vanishes, replaced, renewed. I, me, you, we, they, all have no meaning. We are all. We are one. We speak to him, caress him with our words.

"We want to show you, Carl. See."

We touch Carl's mind, flow around him, through him. Carl resists, fights us. He does not want to be one with us. We try to tell him not to resist, to give in, to be free, but he will not listen. He will fight us. We will erode him, as water does rock. Such is his choice. We are patient. We are eternal.

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