Spark

I haven’t seen her in so long. It had been years since we’ve spoken with one another. She was beautiful. She stood in the forest and looked around quietly, taking in the landscape around her. Her smile reached from ear to ear, and it brightened the space around her. Her soft eyes bounced back and forth at the flora surrounding her. She was beautiful, in every way.

“You’re feeding the fire.” Said a voice from behind me.

I looked back, and she was gone. The bright green forest had vanished, and lead way to the white hall. This time, it was a train station. The one in red sat on a bench and looked at me. I could hear train horns and screeching brakes off in the distance; a departure from the normal void of sound.

“What are you talking about?” I asked him. Good was nowhere to be seen.

“You’re feeding the fire.” He taunted once more, sitting up and straightening his posture. “I told you already.”

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” I repeated, pacing in a line in front of him, “what fire?”

“Story time?” He said with a grin. I rolled my eyes and turned me eyes and turned my head away. “You know how when you meet someone for the first time, people say that there’s a ‘spark’ between the two of you?”

“Of course.”

“We romanticize the idea of a spark. Everyone is useless. A spark in a romantic sense? A spark can start a fire. A fire leads to an inferno. And inferno leads to pain, and suffering.”

“I think you’re just being pessimistic.” I scolded him.

“Wow,” he sighed, “you’re a quick one, aren’t you?”

“Why do you have to keep doing this to me?” I pleaded him, finally turning back to face him. “I was having a good time just then. And of course you had to show up and ruin it! You always do this...”

He took a sharp breath, but then stopped when the squealing of brakes came from the far end of the hall.

“Why must we feed these sparks that reside within us?" He said mystically, looking out into the void before turning slowly to me. "Sparks are an element of fire, the element of purification, and pain. We let these sparks light inside of us. And what do we do? We let them fall and settle. We let them spread. We let them grow until they consume every constituent of our beings. They lead us to ruin. They are ruin. Why do we keep doing this to ourselves?”

“Because fire is the symbol of life.” Said a voice. We both looked, and Good was strolling from the direction that the sound of brakes came from. His hands were held behind his back, and he walked up to us with a firm smile on his face.

“Without fire, we, as a species,” Good continued, “never would have been able to get to where we are today. Fire brings life. Fire nurtures, and cares for our very concept of life. And you can’t have a fire without a spark.”

“You always have to ruin everything, don’t you?” Bad hissed, looking down at the floor in front of him. “I was just about done here-.”

“You will say no more.” Good cut him off. “Yes, fires can be destructive. But they can save us. The fire is a tool worth being afraid of. But it is the same tool worth bringing with you, at all times.”

“Until you burn yourself.” Bad interjected, holding up his finger in a ‘matter-of-fact’ matter.

“The same rule applies for love.” Good continued, ignoring Bad’s comment. “There is nothing more powerful than the power of love. Love is the single most important feeling that a human can experience. Yes, it's dangerous, just like any other emotion. But why would you continue to venture forth through life without the most potent of emotions?"

I sat there, staring at him. I can't. I said to myself. I can't do this to myself again. Bad is right. I'm letting this consume me. I'll just sit here, dreaming about the impossible while I ignore the real world.

"He's learning..." Bad grumbled, lighting a cigarette. Good looked between him and I. He sighed and started to walk back into the void.

"I give up with you." He shouted back at us. A train was coming. It rumbled and shook the hallway. The sound of the engine was deafening. Bad sat there, and glared at me with a grin, the cigarette hanging loosely out of his mouth. Everything began to go white. It was almost over.

"I win again." He mumbled one last time.

Break

I know this place. I hate this place. The closest thing that I can compare it too is purgatory. Every object that enters this land retains a white hue, to blend in the white everything. Literally just how Heaven or purgatory worked in cartoons; this is that place. The scene always changes. Sometimes it’s my room. Sometimes it’s a school desk. Sometimes it's the inside of my car, driving out into an endless white abyss. And other times, it’s just a table and a few chairs. But while the scene changes, the characters always remain the same. Me, myself, and I.

This time, it was just the debate table. Faint, gray coffee rings stained the table. I was sitting across from the one in white, as well as the one in red. The one in white had a soft, distant smile on his face. His eyes twinkle in the source less light, and he looks as me fondly, like a compassionate father would. But he is still no more than me. But the one in red can’t be bothered to be at this meeting, He hates is; despises it. Every moment he spend here, debating with the norm and the good is that much less time he can spend rattling his vile. He sits there with his elbows on the table, head in his hands. He looks between Good and me, as his body shakes as he bounces his foot underneath the table.

"What are we going to do about him?" I asked them. "This relationship won't work."

"He knows this." Good replied, folding his hands in front of him on the table. "He knows that the path he is on is not the one he is supposed to be on. You just need to help him; no more."

"Oh forget that." Bad retorted, throwing himself back in his chair as he spoke. "She's a bitch. Can you two morons not see that?! She's a little asshole! She's only here because he can't do better!"

"Now now," Good calmed him, "we can't say things like that. Those are just assumptions."

"Well Captain Mediator, assumptions are worth taking into consideration!"

"True, but they aren't worth assuming as truth."

"Just, stop." I interrupted.  "Both of you. You're both right. We need to take the assumptions into consideration, but we can't think anything of them."

Good sat in his chair, calm, but he was looking through me. The one in red stood up, and rested his hands on the table, peering down at me. His eyes were red.

"You better think about this for a little bit longer." He hissed, leaning in closer to me. "You know what I'm thinking. Forget the idiot over there. You know I'm right. You know that she's hiding something. You know it. And how would you feel if it turned out to be right, but you never reached out to tell the guy who needed it most. You would have known all along that she was lying. But you didn't do anything about it."

His words were evil, but they were alluring. The rest of the world faded away. I could still see the one in white. He was still looking through me at whatever was behind me. But his mouth was moving; forming words that I couldn't hear; Bad talked louder. I looked between the two of them. The red eyes looking down at me were now gleaming. I can't ignore his words. They're too alluring. And even then, I only want to believe them because it will keep him safe. Safe from her. The world came back, and I could finally start to hear the words from the one in white.

"You're not listening."

"I know." Said Bad, grinning.

"You're going to do what he told you to do, no matter what I say. But think about what will happen after the fact. After you do what I know you're going to do."

I didn't want to listen to his words anymore. I began to rise out of my chair to walk out into the void. He needed to know. I needed to tell him. Now.

"He'll be broken." Good said simply. I stopped with my back turned to the table. "You've been through heartbreak before. The least painful, and he most painful. It hurts either way. This will ruin him. Not forever, surely, but for a long time. He won't be the same. And it will be your fault."

"No it won't." I returned. "Because I'll be there for him. When it happened to me, I had no one to turn to. It was in high school, so surely I didn't go to my family. But I didn't have friends then to turn to for help. He will, because I'll be there!"

"Give it more time!" He yelled back. "You're letting the other one take control, again! You know deep down that this is wrong. If you go to him and tell him these things; that she's a liar and that she should be called out on all of her wrong doings, it will backfire in your face!"

"How do you know that?!" I screamed back, finally turning back to the table. "None of us know that. But Bad is right! What if she is a liar? A cheat? A scam?"

"You forgot 'waste of time,' don't forget that one!" Bad chimed in, leaning bad and grinning in his seat.

"Fine!" Good finally screamed back, getting up from his chair and walking off in the other direction. "See if I care! We all know what's going to happen! This will backfire! Don't come crawling back to me when it does!"

I watch him as he walked out into the void. He grew fainter as he walked away. Bad was watching him too. He was now hunched over the table with his hands folded. He was biting his lip, his leg was still bouncing beneath the table. Finally, Good vanished.

"About time." Bad mumbled, reaching into his pocket and grabbed a box of smokes. He grabbed one to put up to his mouth, and then held out the box to me. I shook my head, and he shrugged and mumbled more underneath his breath.

"You better not be lying here." I told him. He held the lighter to the end and puffed on it until it smoked. Then he leaned back in his chair again with the cigarette cradled in his fingers.

"When do I ever?" I said before he took another drag. "You don't trust people. You can, but you'll just get hurt in the end.

"But I trust him."

"Whatever. I mean, I guess you can, but whatever."

"But what about her?"

"Don't trust her. Why bother?"

The world began to fall away. This debate was over. It was time. I'm going to tell him everything. Everything that I can think of. He'll understand.

...

...

...

It's too bad that of the two, Bad talks louder.

   

Genesis

Remember when we were kids? And how the metaphor used to describe the internal constructs of good and evil in cartoons were represented using a little angel, and a little devil versions of the character, sitting on their shoulders? That is still, as a 21-year-old man, how I represent my conversations, (to a degree). There's me, the mediator of each debate, and there are the two opposite ends of the same spectrum; good and evil. The optimist and the pessimist. The good person and the bad person.     

There is one purpose of this blog: to tell stories. Most of these entries are fueled by real life events, and I deal with them by writing about them; turning them into stories so that I can better comprehend, and deal with the problems I deal with every day. But because of that, bear in mind that these are nothing more than that: stories. Please don’t think anything is wrong with me. It isn’t uncommon for me to think of an idea, and then leave it to grow into something much darker than I had intended it to be. Everything is fine. This is my therapy.