Whenever I go into my chamber I lay with my inner child and dream of when we will escape and breathe. I can feel the presence of Azrael in my subconscious so much that I am most times brought to consciousness with pangs of ache in my head. “I don’t deserve this horror” I say to myself all the time as I play the victim. But then it happens again. “Say a decade of the rosary and ask God for forgiveness of sins”, said the priest. “My sister, you have to fast for three days. More so you have been robbing God. Pay your tithes and first fruits duly and put Him to test”, said the pastor. I said more than a decade and fasted for over three days and they probably must have worked for something else because the fear never left. Then I realized it was a battle I had to fight myself, a battle of the mind that I shouldn’t lose. So I started.
Step one, dropped my bag of hurt. I searched through my mind (though it wasn’t difficult) for all who had ever hurt me and I replayed the events mentally, smiled at them, identified and learnt my lessons and… moved on.
Step two. We had to talk, yes, my fears and I. I had to make her understand that I was tired of her torments and that I have decided to move on. I want to breathe again. Only this time I’d love to fly as well. And that was it, she let me be.
Step three. A new fear sets in. Fear of greatness. And I am lost as to how I should go about this. But I don’t care. All I want is to breathe and fly.
Spread My Wings And Fly So High.