Into The Fire

“Are you sure about this?”

My sister leaned forward from the couch across from me. Her hands clasped together in her lap as she peered at me through those big, blue, puppy-dog eyes. “These kinds of treatments are extremely experimental; and, well… not exactly legal.”

Pins and needles prodded my skin as I lowered my gaze and fixed it onto the tiles beneath my feet. The various shades of pink blended together just perfectly so that a swirl of color could glare back at me. In it, a menacing demon face appeared so clearly that it was all I could see.

The demon gritted sharp, angry teeth at me; a smile. He was taunting me. I closed my eyes as tightly as I could, but even then, his image remained – a devilish look, ingrained in my memory.

I opened my eyes and turned my attention to the delicate interlacing of my sister’s fingers. Her well-manicured hands always looked so soft and pretty. Briefly, I compared them to my own dry, splotchy, unpolished fingers – so chewed, that they ached.

I tried to lift my eyes to meet hers, but the knot in my throat let me know that they’d soon be filled with tears. She was taunting me too; taunting me with a feigned concern that covered up her disapproval. I could feel her sharp, blue irises piercing into my entire being, and my skin burned. She meant to break me with those eyes, and if I allowed our gazes to meet, she just might; so instead, I stayed steadily focused on her hands.

A soft sound escaped my lips as I shifted in my seat. “I’m sure,” I said.

---

The smell and taste of dirt invaded my senses and my mouth felt dry; tacky.

A soft melody played all around me.

Classical music? I thought.

My brows pinched together as I struggled to peel my eyes open – like forcing myself to wake up from a bad dream.

Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the light, and I became aware of my surroundings. My gaze was fixed toward the floor where beneath me was a familiar tile; and right beside my big toe, lurked a demon. He peered back at me, his eyes angled sharply, his teeth jagged and threatening.

A staticky feeling danced its way throughout my entire body. Anxiety.

It was the same demon I’d noticed before, but now, instead of being fixed into the tile, he was mobile. He swirled around – rhythmically shifting with the music – between the various tiles beneath my feet, and all the while, continuing to stare me down.

I closed my eyes and shook my head, but when I looked again, nothing had changed.

My gaze lifted to the sofa across from me, but my sister wasn’t there. I looked around the room, and it was empty.

I pinched my eyebrows together. Did I black out?

I opened and closed my mouth a few times, eager to soften the pungent taste of earth that lingered.

Wait a minute. I swirled my tongue around my mouth. Is this poison? Is my sister– my heart dropped from my chest – trying to murder me?

The thought was clear, and the fear was tangible, but even I knew it was ridiculous. So, I immediately began to shake my whole body – to shake the thoughts and the feelings that came with them away – like Dr. Hollinger had taught me. Okay, you’re okay. No one is trying to murder you.

It worked well enough, so I rose to my feet and started toward the kitchen.

I took three steps before my stomach began to churn. Bracing myself for vomit – gritty, dirty, earth-like vomit – I wretched, and heaved, and coughed, and spit, but nothing came up.

My head felt light, so I closed my eyes and rubbed my face. As I opened them back up, the room around me was suddenly different. I wasn’t at my sister’s house anymore, instead I was in my childhood home.

Brow still furrowed; I scanned my new surroundings. Then, I felt it – the burning sensation on my skin. I wasn’t alone. Someone was behind me. I braced myself, part of me expecting to see my sister swinging a big shovel right at my head, then turned quickly.

A gasp filled my throat. It wasn’t my sister. It was the tile demon – only now, with a full, three-dimensional body – sitting right in front of me.

The demon smiled at me. His sharp teeth – each of which fit perfectly into the spaces between the others – cut into his gums, causing blood to drip from his mouth.

“Wh-What do you want?”

“Are you not afraid?” He said with a voice that reminded me of rusted steel.

The pounding in my chest and tingling in my bones told me that I was.

He giggled with delight. “I am here to send you on a quest.”

“A quest?” My eyes darted to the front door, but to my surprise, it wasn’t there. The windows were gone too.

“It is a test that will either make you… or break you.” His smile was sadistic.

My throat tightened as I made an effort to swallow, and he widened his smile.

Can he feel my emotions? Read my thoughts?

“If you want to leave, you must agree to the quest.” He blinked slowly. “If you chose not to, you’ll be stuck here for the rest of your days.” His head bobbed back and forth to the music.

“Where is here?” I asked.

“If you accept,” he continued, “you could find the answers you’re looking for. That, or you’ll come directly into contact with your worst fears.” He turned his head down and peered at me through the tops of his eyes. “What do you choose?”

I tried to lick my lips, but my tongue was so dry, it stuck to them for a moment.

“There is a door inside the bedroom upstairs.” He said impatiently, licking blood from his own lips. “It leads to a small room.”

I shuddered. “We don’t go in that room.”

A steely sound of delight escaped from the demon’s throat. “In this room, you will find a staircase. The staircase will take you straight into the depths of Hell. You must go down there and retrieve something; something that is very important to you... Your very life depends on it.”

“What is it?” I asked

The music in the background began its crescendo toward its epic peak.

“You’ll know it when you see it,” his eyes gleaned. Then, he lifted his hand and brought the tips of his thumb and middle finger together. The sound of his snap boomed in my ears, and in that very moment, the song came to an explosive end. The brightest light I had ever seen melted my surroundings away, and then everything went dark.

---

The notes of a new tune filled my ears – a combination of pan flutes and crystal singing bowls – with a child-like playfulness. As I became aware of the sound, I realized my eyes were closed again. Opening them up was every bit as difficult as the first time.

Even as my vision blurred all around me, I knew quite clearly where I was – just a few steps away from the door.

That familiar anxious buzzing radiated throughout my entire body – like being electrocuted, only on a much more subtle level.

This was the one and only entry way into the source of all my childhood nightmares, and I had to go inside.

Wait a minute, I thought, realizing that the door seemed rather large, as did the bed beside me, the dresser to my left, and – I turned around to find a mirror on the wall behind me – are you fucking kidding me? As I peered into the mirror, I realized I was looking into the eyes of a little girl. Not just any little girl, though. It was the little girl version of me.

“You know it hurts my feelings when you talk like that.”

“Mom?” I searched the room to find her voice. She was nowhere to be seen.

Movement in the mirror caught my eye and I glanced at it once again. My younger self was no longer there. Instead it was a scene from my past, playing out like a movie on a screen.

Me at age 17, sitting at the kitchen table, arms crossed, wearing a pair of low-rise jeans and a t-shirt that showed my belly. My mother stood before me in her bathrobe, hair disheveled.

“Curfew was 2 hours ago, young lady.”

“I am literally the only senior in my entire school who has a 10 o’clock curfew, mom.”

“Yeah, well you’re fixing to be the only senior at your school with a 9 o’clock curfew.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I rose to my feet. “That’s not fair.”

She frowned, but she looked more tired than angry. “You know it hurts my feelings when you talk like that. Now I don’t want to hear another word about it. Go to your room; you’re grounded for the rest of the weekend.”

I watched as the 17-year-old me stormed off to my bedroom with watery eyes.

In that moment, I felt a tension in my throat, the kind that warned me tears would soon follow.

The images in the mirror faded and the music in my ears slowed. A new, much more solemn tone took over. More than just sad, though – it was angry sad.

I wiped my face and blinked my watery eyes. Why am I still so mad anyway? Why can’t I let these things go?

Still sniffling, I turned back towards the closet door.

A deep sigh escaped my lips and slowly, I began walking towards it, one careful footstep at a time.

A portal that will take me straight to Hell, the demon had said, but that didn’t have to mean there were monsters in there, did it?

As I reached arms distance, the music shifted again, and a new wave of fear flowed over me.

Suddenly, a jolt brought to my knees; an indescribable sensation – beyond pain – oscillated throughout my entire body, like the vibration of anxiety turned up to 1000. It vibrated all the way down to my bones. The shock waves reverberated from my head to my toes, endlessly. I could hear it in my ears, like a screeching banshee.

I clawed at the carpet beneath me and pulled myself away from the door until the pain finally ceased, leaving behind a dull ache that was like a dream in comparison.

“What the fuck was that?” I said through tears, half expecting the demon to show up, laughing.

As I lay flat on the floor, whimpering in pain, my eyes caught a glimpse of something familiar underneath the bed. I crawled towards it eagerly and grabbed it by the ears. It was my old stuffed rabbit.

I clutched it tightly in my arms, wrapped my entire body around it, and sobbed uncontrollably. The tune of a strange, sadistic, sad song taunted me.

This is so fucked up. I thought. I can’t do this.

“Yes, you can,” a voice said. “This is what you wanted, remember?”

I released my grip around the stuffed rabbit and looked at it in disbelief. “Speckles?”

“You can do this,” she said, her voice sing-songy and childlike. “This is what you’ve been preparing for.”

“I can’t do it.”

“You’ve been through worse pain than this,” she said.

I sniffled. “But I’m still scared.”

“It’s okay to be scared, but you can’t let your fear stop you.”

I hugged the stuffed rabbit tightly to my chest and sobbed for another moment. Somehow, I knew she was right, but I wished that she wasn’t.

“You’ll be okay. I’m here now, and I’m not leaving your side. We can get through this together.”

Through my stream of tears, I glared back at the door, and a tangible sense of dread filled my tiny being.

“They said this would be worth it,” I sniffled.

“It will be,” Speckles assured me.

Slowly, I rose to my feet, still whimpering, tears still dripping down my face. This is what I wanted.

I braced myself as I made a move for the door, and just like that, the pain returned, full force.

I gritted my teeth and used every ounce of strength that I had to inch my way forward. Blood dripped from my nose and tears streamed down my cheeks. I felt splashing sensation on my bare feet – tears or blood, or a combination of the two.

The music reached a new level of unbearable, and my eardrums felt as though they might burst. Every inch of my body was searing in pain.

Then, just as my bones were ready to give out, a vivid image forced its way into my brain.

I was 14, sitting in the car with my mom, biting my nails and fighting back tears. It was a Sunday morning and she had just picked me up from a sleep over at my best friend’s house. In that moment, I felt everything that 14-year-old me was feeling – confused, violated, lost – and all the while, mom had no idea.

Sneaking out, older boys, fast cars, having fun, making out, and then pain. Fingers inside of me.

I wanted to tell her what had happened, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. She hadn’t even noticed I was upset.

The memory faded and I realized suddenly that my hand was on the doorknob, the song had ended, and the physical pain had ceased.

My heart was racing, but at the same time, I was completely numb.

I blinked the remaining tears out of my eyes and opened the door. The door creaked as it swung inward, revealing cobwebs, dust, and a dark, cold, damp stairway. It was the passage that would take me to Hell.

A small sigh escaped my lips, but I was too exhausted to be afraid. I lifted my right foot and planted it onto the first step and began my trek into the depths of Hell.

---

Sweat dripped from every single pore of my body. My skin burned, and smoke filled my lungs. My overall sense of numbness had gotten me this far, but with all the heat, and smoke, and fire, it was beginning to fade. My discomfort became more and more apparent.

Hellfire surrounded me in every direction, like walls in the world’s deadliest labyrinth. A slow song with dark undertones had been ringing in my ears for what seemed like forever. And no matter how many corners I’d turn, no matter how many steps I’d take, the road never ended, the fire never ceased, and the song never changed.

My feet dragged on the dry, ashen ground beneath me and I suddenly lost my balance. My body came tumbling onto the ground and again, I started crying.

“This is hopeless,” I said. “How long have I been walking?”

“Time doesn’t exist here,” Speckles said. “This is Hell.”

I rolled over onto my back and stared up into the black nothing above me.

“Okay,” I said. “But still, I don’t even know what we’re looking for. And I’m so thirsty.”

“Well” Speckles said, “do you at least know why you’re here?”

Why am I here? I thought about my life and the things I wanted for myself. Home, love, happiness, satisfaction, comfort, compassion, connection; and all of this was part of that somehow.

“Don’t be such a drama queen.” My mothers voice came from nowhere, but at the same time, it was everywhere.

I closed my eyes and a memory from when I was 10 played itself out for me.

I was alone, sitting on the stairs in the shallow end of the pool, Speckles perched on a lounge chair just behind me. My mom and sister were across from me in the deep end.

“I want you guys to come be with me in the shallow end,” I said

“It’s more fun in the deep end,” my sister said.

“Why don’t you swim over here and come be with us?” My mom said.

“I can’t, I’ll drown.”

“Sweetheart, don’t be such a drama queen,” she rolled her eyes. “We won’t let you drown.”

My stomach lurched and the memory faded.

“Can you identify those feelings?” Speckles said.

“Misunderstood. Abandoned. Alone.” I sighed. “Disappointed in myself.”

“Why were you disappointed?”

“Because I was so wrapped up in my own fear that I couldn’t enjoy myself. I couldn’t be with my family and earn their approval.” I rubbed my eyes. “Maybe that’s the problem. I’ve been afraid my entire life, and I don’t really know why; but that fear has held me back. I’m tired of that.” I sat up and looked at the stuffed rabbit. “I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”

“Well, what’s scaring you right now?” She said.

I looked around. “Besides the fact that I’m supposedly in Hell and it seems never ending? Mostly just the fire.”

“What would you do if you weren’t afraid of the fire?”

“I guess I’d just walk through it,” I half laughed.

“So, do it.”

I looked at the fiery walls all around me. The flames blazed angrily, and I could feel their emanating heat against my skin. “I’ll get burned,” I said.

“How do you know?”

“Logic.”

“What’s logical about any of the things that are happening right now?” Speckles said.

I glanced at the walls of fire all around me. “But what if my entire body catches on fire and I burn to death?”

“What if you don’t?”

I could hear the music in my ears – it was shifting – and just so, my entire body began to tingle with anxious energy. I had to do something, or something would happen to me; I knew that.

Slowly, I rose to my feet. My legs were heavy and shaky, and despite the unwavering heat that threatened to turn me into a puddle of sweat, a shiver took me over.

I forced myself forward, one heavy footstep at a time. As I drew nearer, the air around me grew hotter and I hesitated for another moment.

Am I delirious? Is this really the right thing to do? I thought.

Then, just as the music hit the peak of a new crescendo, I let out a war cry and went for it.

Instantly, my skin began to melt. I shrieked as I ran the rest of the way through, my body engulfed in the flames – every inch of me burning and searing in pain. Still, I kept on running all the way through. Then, as I reached the other side, my realization was almost more painful than my charred skin – I was the fire, and the fire was me.

Huffing and puffing, I collapsed to hands and knees. The painful burning in my skin eased away as the fires that had previously surrounded me, vanished. Darkness surrounded me.

“Speckles, I’ve been doing this to myself!” I huffed. “These walls of fire have been surrounding me my whole life, and I’ve always been the one lighting them.”

“You didn’t start the fire,” Speckles said. “You just kept it going.”

“Well then what did start it?”

“I think that’s what you’re here to find out,” she said.

A new song started in my ears. One that was unknown to me, but at the same time, familiar somehow. In the distance, a light flipped on. Then another, and another – on and on – revealing a long corridor.

As I peered down the hallway, it took me a moment to identify the feeling that was emerging – it didn’t come with the familiar buzzing that typically accompanied my anxiety. This was more invigorating, and in a way, almost delightful; electric.

Curiosity? It was like a hunger that needed to be satiated, and the only way to do that was to walk down that hallway.

I’ve come this far...

Then, without realizing I’d slowly been making my way to the corridor, I was suddenly right in front of it. The walls were lined with shelves upon shelves of random items.

No – not random. All of the items on the walls were things from my life. A picture I had painted for my sister while she was away at school; The earring that had been ripped from my ear during a game of tag; The mug I’d used to arrange flowers for my mom in second grade; so many of my childhood toys; and pictures from throughout various points in my life.

“These are…”

“Your memories,” Speckles finished my sentence before I could wrap my head around it.

“This is…”

“Your subconscious.” She did it again.

A dizzy spell overcame me, and I wavered for a moment. “It’s all so much to take in.” I glanced up and down the walls as I made my way slowly through the hallway. “This must be where I’ll find,” I shrugged, “whatever it is I’m looking for.”

I glanced ahead and noticed that the hallway didn’t seem to have an end. “But there’s so much, and there doesn’t seem to be any order to any of it. How will I know what it is?”

Silence.

My chest tightened. What if I can’t do this. What if I don’t find it. I can’t let all of this be for nothing. I can’t keep living my life like this.

“You can do it.” Speckles said. “Otherwise, this place wouldn’t have presented itself to you.”

I nodded.

As we pressed forward, for every item that I recognized, there were about 30 that I didn’t. Trinkets, gadgets, articles of clothing, books I’d read, movies I’d seen, moments I’d lived, and imagined moments I’d only dreamed of living.

There were things that belonged to me, things that belonged to people I knew, and things I’d wanted but never had. Scattered among all the memories were an overwhelming number of things that frightened me – various kinds of spiders, roaches and snakes. I saw several snow globes that contained weather systems like tornadoes and lightning storms. I even passed a few photos of authority figures – policemen, old bosses, and teachers.

“Wait,” I stopped for a moment before walking up to one of the shelves. “What’s this?”

It was a tube of Ruby Red lipstick, and there was something familiar about it. My eyebrows pinched together as I searched my thoughts.

“Try picking it up,” Speckles said.

I grabbed the lipstick from the shelf and looked at it more closely. Taking the cap between my index finger and thumb, I slowly lifted it away. The smell of the lipstick filled my nostrils and I found myself plummeting into a new memory.

I was a little girl, maybe three or four, and I was all dressed up in an outfit I’d put together myself with my mother’s clothes. I’d even gotten into her makeup and decorated my face like I’d seen her do so many times before. I was proud of how I looked – like a grownup lady – and I wanted everyone to see. I called to my family as I walked carefully down the hallway, with all the grace of a princess. I looked toward my sister who peered at me through big, blue, puppy-dog eyes – a familiar expression of feigned concern, only, it wasn’t feigned, was it?

Then I glanced up to see the look on my mother’s face, and it was clear – she was angry.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” She said with a franticness in her voice. “You know you’re not supposed to play with mommy’s things. Look at you – you got that red lipstick all over my favorite blouse!”

My chest tightened and the knot in my throat was so large, I couldn’t swallow. I never even felt the tears forming before they started streaming down my face. I collapsed to the ground and began gasping for air.

“Do you remember how that made you feel?” Speckles voice came through.

“Fucking despicable,” I said through sobs as I hugged Speckles into my chest.

Then, the music shifted into something new – different than anything I’d heard thus far. It was picking up in a way that felt almost empowering.

The room around me faded into darkness except for one light that remained in the distance. I wiped my tears, set Speckles aside and made my way towards it. As I got closer, I saw an image of myself reflected in a mirror. I was me again – my normal self, my normal age.

As I inspected my reflection, I noticed something behind me back where I’d left speckles. I squinted, trying to make out what – or who – it was through the darkness.

Is that me?

It was little girl me; she was hugging my little stuffed rabbit and sleeping on the floor.

I turned and approached her. Then, as I knelt beside her, she opened her eyes and blinked at me –drained, confused, and tormented.

She had been wandering around down here in the dark – sad, alone, and afraid – all this time.

Fresh tears dripped from my chin to the floor as I reached for her. “I’m so sorry I left you behind,” I said through my sobs.

My inner child looked at me for a moment, and I could see the pain fading from her eyes as a new sense of hope took over. Then she reached for me too. Warmth filled my body as we embraced, and suddenly, everything was clear.

My sister – at every age I’d ever known her – appeared beside us, knelt down, and wrapped her arms around us. My heart swelled, and just as I began to feel that it might burst, our mother appeared.

She looked so young – just a teenager. She was only 17 when she had my sister. 19 when she had me. I looked into her eyes and felt like, for the first time, I understood her. She hovered above for a moment before dropping to her knees and joining our embrace.

As we all hugged, each of their beings – my sister, my mother, and my inner child – melted into my own. A light clicked on inside of me and every inch of my body tingled with a new sensation. The music in my ears somehow contained every possible emotion, and it flooded my body with euphoria.

Then, shrouded in the warmth of pure love and true self-acceptance, I realized – for the first time since I was a little girl – I was whole.