Henessey Hussey

Professor Serhiy Metenko 

FIQWS Killer Stories – Writing

8 September 2022

From Colors To Black And White 

     I remember the day she died and I remember all the times I mourned her death. I remember her favorite shows with her favorite comfort characters, her lively, vibrant personality that twinkled like the moon in the empty night sky. When she would be in the classroom with the other kids just blasting her intrusive thoughts and the kids would laugh and call her crazy. But not the kind of crazy you avoided, the kind you loved and adored. Only for her to be taken away from the world, not knowing if she would ever return or be cast away forever.

    The days replay in my head like a broken record player that can’t help but play the same tune. A tune so sweet and soft like a mother’s lullaby to her newborn child. That felt like a breeze going through your hair on a hot summer day when it’s well needed. The days consisted of surprises and 5 seconds of joy, like rainy days, the cherry blossoms at the beginning of spring and even seeing a beautiful stray cat on the street. One day she was surprised with a trip to see family in another state that she barely knew. Little did she know she was going to come face to face with a psychopomp. 

     She spent many wonderful moments with her distant family. She got to wear makeup, applying the brightest red lipstick she could find on her lips and her aunt’s high heels that made her 4’11 figure grow to 5’3. Most importantly, she got to dance in the rain. I remember how the rain danced on the ground alongside her on the pavement of the driveway in front of the garage and how the rain synced with her heart. So many happy moments, one after the other. When she ran through the grassy fields with Marbles, the family dog, the wind in both of their hairs, and the fields staining them green. All and everything leading up to her big day.

    At that point, one of her sisters had already returned home to her own mother, but before she left, we had a barbecue for her and grilled chicken and liver that we all enjoyed in the garage as the sun set. It was just her and her older sister now left to enjoy what was left of their visit until it was their time to part ways. They would watch tv together, relax around the house in comfy clothing, and sometimes the whole family would go to Walmart and other shopping areas to window shop with their eyes spending the money they didn’t have to live out a fantasy in their minds. 

   On one of the last few days, she was left alone in a dark room at night, thinking of the unknowns of life soon to come and an odd feeling in her heart. She would later wake with unfamiliar sensations in and on her body with her mind stroked with fear and confusion. She then closed her eyes and hoped that when she woke up, it was all over. The sensations danced on her skin and skinned her alive, which would cause her to never feel comfort in the new skin she grows and plucked her eyes out so she’ll never see the true beauty she holds with all her amazing offerings. The sensations ripped her clothing for her to never find peace in what she wears. Overwhelmed her mind and shut it down to stop tranquility from traveling through her veins to her body. Lastly, the sensations burdened her heart so that every encounter with a man would remind her that the kisses he leaves on her skin could bring chaos to her soul. The very soul the psychopomp guided on a raft through the river of damned souls that thirst for life just like her.

   Her spirit may have been gone, but her body remained in the physical world. When she saw this from the raft, she tried to reach out to her body inches away but not close enough to jump and inhabit again. She tried multiple times to jump into her body lying on the floor of the room she left and continued doing so for years, though she had not noticed the time passing by her. 

   Between her attempts of jumping into herself, she would take the time to watch her body continue her life as it went back home to New York at the end of the summer to start at a new school. She watched her body grow up from a distance, its soulless reflection, and dimly lit eyes, aimlessly walking the earth with thy neighbors. She would notice that her body would have moments of clarity surrounding the memories of being alone in the dark room with the sensations. Her body was having almost violent reactions to the flashbacks that would swarm her mind like bees and send waves of anxiety through her body, in those moments, she felt herself connect with her body.

   I look back to that day in the dark room and feel sympathy for her, as she did not understand what had happened to her, she did not deserve that. The universe knows how much I prayed for her, it was far too late for any prayers or blessings with the damage already done. As her soul viewed her body from the outside, I watched her body and saw how it struggled to function with no soul for guidance or comfort. Her body grew quiet and became secluded with its madness. The years other kids her age spent having fun and gaining experience, her body spent them suffering with the same question repeatedly in mind,“Why?”

   She did not deserve to feel the harshness of the world at a young age. She did not deserve to be stripped of her soul and life because of another persons’ entitlement and inability to control themselves. Instead being gifted with tenderness of human interactions and the warmth of the sun on her skin, she received only pain. She was no longer the same. It was obvious that she changed. She walked the streets with no mind to guide her, no emotions to motivate her, life became bleak. The sun was just the sun, the moon was just the moon, the flowers were just flowers, tv was just tv, school was just school, and life was just hourglass. She was an empty vessel with a soul on the other side, waiting for time to pass by. 

   Her life seemed meaningless. Her soul watched with anguish just hoping that she could find her way back. She wanted her life back, her heart breaking as the thought appeared in her mind, but there was nothing she could do. Her soul watched her body as the years passed, sitting with the psychopomp filled with agony and forlorn.