Lota, the demon of stagnant lakes and stagnant hearts. Draped with a heaving web of algae and dead fish, she is the cold hand on your shoulder, siphoning day by day your vigour and vivacity. As if pulled deep underwater by her touch, no one, and nothing, seems to reach you once she has her grasp on you. The surface of the water becomes the alienating barrier between you and the world you once knew. Nothing that your loved ones do for you seems to reach you down there, where you sit curled up, wondering why you can’t summon gratitude for everything they do for you. Why nothing births excitement in you, why you stare in the eyes of tragedy and loss without a flinch, and why you harbour such distrust for every single nice word that slips from a stranger’s mouth. You’ve already forgotten the feeling of laughter, of a heart racing for the silliest of matters, of compliments that leave you flustered. Deep down at the bottom, you breath and exhale thick and cold water, tight in the embrace of the one that has robbed you of your desire to live and your ability to feel. Above, the ones you care about grow and evolve, whilst you remain unchanged and frozen, gradually fading. You hope for a trigger; for flames to choke the lake and breath back wonder into your eyes and life back into your lungs. You earn for a vigorous shake, for a slap that will jolt you awake. Yet, it never comes. You tilt your head upwards. Moving against the surface, you see multiple dancing lights. They eventually dissipate and her cheek presses against the top of your head, her long arms encircling you, and her lips whispering how much she loves you. You shrug.
For Ava’s Demon contest. I don’t usually do contests but doing this one mattered to me, in a way. I was interested in giving my issues a form, now that I’ve decided to mend myself together, replace my broken heart and try to move on. Maybe I can finally let go.