Guarding My Heart & Mind.

It’s 3:00 am., in the morning. Futile remark.

I looked at the clock dancing on the wall.

It’s an old colonial clock resembling these ones

that my great-aunt used to have.

I watched the time,

and instinctively hid my face in my hands

and my hands between my knees

with blankets covering me, from toe to head.

The time was 3 o’clock,

in the early morning.,

for some people that is the hunted time

when demons, zombies, vampires, ghouls,

evil witches, ghosts, and the boogieman,

or maybe the big monster inside your closet

would come out to hunt you, to scare you

and take with them your heart or your soul.

 

If you weren’t a “good kid”

or you ate too much before bed at night,

you were doomed and lost,

cause they will come for you.

I barely ate before bed, and at times,

not necessarily on purpose,

I had gone to bed hungry and thirsty.

Sometimes it was a self inflicted punishment,

other times, I was just grounded.

But the demons and the ghosts

will still show up

and haunt me,

pulling at my legs,

screaming nonsense into my ears,

pulling out my hair,

dragging me onto the floor

and pulling me out of my bed,

with a loud cry and obscene rants.

I would hold on tight onto the rails of my bed,

for my dear life.

I didn’t wanted to disappear into their claws

alone into the night.

 

The fear of dying alone,

inside the tornado of madness and evil spirits

would haunt the long nights of my early years….

I was a good kid, then. I was.

But I did forgot often, and sometimes on purpose,

my daytime and bedtime prayers.

I couldn’t forget them. It was a sin.

And I had committed that sin.

I swore to never, ever, forget my night time prayers.

Those were my only shield & sword

to defend myself from my nightmares,

and my demons.

With my small face hidden

between my well covered knees and legs

I began to pray, fervently.

But perhaps, there was no use to pray at all.

All I had to do was wait

for daylight and again

all the spirits haunting me

would soon be gone.

Regardless,

I had learned a special prayer,

that I was told

it will guard me

completely from any harm.

The young priest

who’ve taught it to me,

had promised me

that will protect me forever

after only few more years,

he will be back for me and take me away with him,

as his own, because I was supposedly

the child that he loved the most.

 

As I write this, I’m near 19,

but I feel like I’m 6

0r maybe 14 again

and all the demons

that once haunted me

are now back hunting my nightmares

and my mind

Keeping me awake.

I saw his face again.

He saw me first, as he always did.

He could sense me from the crowd.

The same way he has sensed

the need and want

I once had for his love and protection.

He remembered my name.

I was honestly surprised that he did.

After all

I was just a kid before.

I was a server now,

and he was on my table.

His friend, was a little to overly

friendly

and he advised me to stay far from him.

His bishop was just a copy of him,

maybe a bit older

and more refined.

But the same kind of

“innocent and

harmless” creep.

We talked briefly.

I was avoiding his small talk.

But he persisted

so I agreed with him to just go for a small walk and talk

only for a short while.

To me he once had being

my guardian angel.

But an angel don’t touch your knees, your legs,

your hands or rubs your chest

with his own on an “innocent” embrace.

An angel don’t lock the doors behind himself

and teach you things no child should know.

Still,

he was my own fallen angel,

my own monster under my bed,

the skeleton in my closet.

He was the voice inside my ears, my heart,

my conscience, and my mind.

It was not right,

but he was there for me,

like no one else was,

until the day that he was sent away.

As a young girl, to me,

he was the closest thing to love,

and the closest thing to hell…

I’d learned with him

the same old prayers

that would guard my mind,

throughout all my ordeals.

Since no one could,

I had to fend for myself,

and as I learned early on in life

to guard my mind and my soul

with his same prayers

I learned to hate him.

But at 3:00 pm the nightmares

of my past life came back, with him,

haunting my heart and my mind,

terrifying me to death,

like some sort of premonition or fate.

And there he was,

and I had to make a choice

to either go to him or run away.

But I walked submissively and gently into his arms

and into my monster’s cave again.

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