Beyond The Looking Glass - Words of the Unseen - Chapter 79

18 days ago (Edited)

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𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓫𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻

Beyond The Looking Glass is the second book in the Unseen series, a story that came to me from the other side. A story where I thought I was just the narrator until I heard the Words of the Unseen.

This second story goes beyond time and place and mixes the long ago with the here and now. Because history keeps repeating, until we learn and do something about it.

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Beyond The Looking Glass - Words of the Unseen - Chapter 79

Dear Reader, the darkness is all around us.

It can creep up on you while you look away for a split second.

It often comes from where we least expect it, what
if it comes from the only place you would like to feel safe?

What if the darkness slowly invades your most private moments and starts choking you?

Not to kill you but to very slowly squeeze the life energy out of you.

The darkness feeds of your light, and comes like a vampire each night. Taken just a few drops, enough to replenish itself.

Almost unnoticable you are drained, till that day that you no longer recognize yourself. That your just a shell, a working dead.

A new life had started, and it meant many changes, at least for me.

During all those years nothing had changed from her side, unless you want to count her health.

My life and therefore my personality needed to accept this corporate lifestyle. I started at the very bottom, but for the first time, there was a start.

A slow but steady way upward, if I would not screw it up of course. The world had shifted, all of a sudden we were a normal family.

Kyrian reached the age when school became mandatory, and financially we reached the point that a permanent job became obligatory.

Slowly but steadily my weekends focused more on working overtime, supporting her in her deteriorating health, giving my son a few nice hours, and taking care of chores that piled up during the week.

Then when my day would near its end, having a half hour to myself with a drink, just like Grandpa.

Grandpa hadn't come by for a long time.
Due to her deteriorating health, it was often too much for the body I was told.

The last meeting I remember was with her dead dog Raven. Who drew a picture for me.
The drawing showed a winding road and me walking next to the path.

What Is Truly My Road

Did it mean that I wasn't walking the path I was meant to follow?

Even now with increased insights, I'm not completely sure what that meant.

Back then I thought I knew, back then I happily jumped to conclusions. Life was too busy to really pause and consider all options.

At the time I thought that I was not in step with being the provider of the family.
That I was not good enough.
That I needed to do more to join the path that my wife and my son were following.

Now I look at that same drawing differently, maybe I was on the same path? Drowning in my life, feeling responsible for keeping all the balls up in the air while smiling.

In the years to come, I often wondered if Deliah manipulated these messages to keep me on her web.

Was it her telling me I needed to fall in line with my role and keep her and my boy satisfied?

Or was she really just a radio?

That road?
It was not my road.
I see that clearly now, my road led away from her.

Did they really show me that during that last meeting?
It doesn´t matter, what I heard was that I still was not good enough, not part of the team.

In the meantime I noticed more and more often that Deliah was inciting people against me behind my back, telling stories about me that were not entirely true.

Some of these stories reached my ears because the loyal subjects who helped us in exchange for food and a roof over their heads had not always sworn allegiance to her. But if these stories reached me from two sources, how much false filth had been spewed about me?

Why did she not conceal her dark behavior better, what was her plan? And why did these two guests choose to confide in me?

What reached me was that I would not be empathetic, blunt, verbally violent, a kind of tyrant dominating the household.

These Workawayers who spilled the beans could not reconcile such words with my presence. They saw the hardworking father who tried to take care of everyone and took everyone into account.

Even though her words were carefully chosen and purposely hidden in a pleasant conversation, it surprised these people that such hidden insinuations were made in an apparently happy family.

I never confronted her with these findings and since I was drowning in an ocean of work, stress, and emotional overload at the time, I put it aside.

In retrospect, it was very clear that she tried to isolate me even further.