Don't Say It's Name

It started out as most horror stories do, slowly. In fact I remember the first day that I saw…”it”. I apologize now for not being able to say it’s name. For now we’ll just call it the “Intruder” I’ve tried many times to warn my friends and family but every time I say it’s name people around me seem to just go blank for a few seconds, then they completely forget that I said anything at all. I have no idea what’s going on, but I seem to be getting ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning, maybe then I’ll finally be able to explain all of this.

I had a relatively normal childhood, in fact nothing too out of the ordinary happened until I was in high school. The very first night it came to me I was laying down to go to sleep. It was just like any other day that transitioned into any other night, or so I thought. As I laid in bed I reminisced about what had happened throughout that day when suddenly I was gripped by a sudden fear. It felt as though my chest had suddenly tightened and I felt the urge to cry instantly. I had no idea why but I could definitely feel it there, though at the time I didn’t know it’s name.

The only way I can explain it is a dark, thick, smothering shadow. It doesn’t have a shape, it doesn’t have a face, it’s just there. I knew at that moment that I was no longer alone. I suppose eventually it became bored and slowly faded into the corner of my room and I finally drifted off into a restless sleep. I would soon be having a lot of sleep that felt more like exercise than rest.

Months would pass before I would see it again after that first night. I thought about talking to my mom or dad about it but how do you describe something that you can’t see or understand yourself? I surprisingly forgot about it pretty quickly. I suppose the ups and downs of teenage life were just too pressing to concern myself with something that seemed so trivial. I remember berating myself for acting juvenile. I was definitely NOT scared of the dark, or at least that’s what I told myself. Truth be told I’m probably more scared of the dark now than when I was a child, but I suspect that’s mostly to do with the reason I’m writing this.

The Intruder began to appear more often, creeping out from the corner of my bedroom. I soon began to become accustom to it’s presence, or at least as accustomed as one can get to a monster. I would lie in bed and wait for it, and it always came. It slowly began to get familiar with me as well, it no longer would just hide in the corner, it began to get closer and closer to me. Each night, as I stared at it, it would be one step closer to my bed than the previous night.

Even though it is never within arms reach it somehow can still touch me, not with physical hands like yours or mine. No, it exists in some other plane of reality, it does not rely on such primitive forms of communication. It reaches out with it’s mind and grips me in icy cold tendrils. I can feel them wrap around my body, around my head, and then it begins to twist my thoughts. It makes me think of things that even my nightmares cannot compare to. I’m helpless against it, I cannot scream, I cannot run. I am paralyzed within it’s embrace until I am emptied of all emotion, then it slowly drifts away and I fall asleep.

One day it at last visited me during the daytime hours. Throughout my observations I believe that it is weakened by the sun, or perhaps it’s the other people around me, but it doesn’t seem as strong either way. No one else can see it though, I’ve tried pointing at it, I’ve tried describing it, I’ve tried everything until I accidentally learned it’s name while trying to distinguish it to a friend. As soon as I said the name my friend looked at me horrified for a moment, it was as if she knew exactly what I was talking about, perhaps she had seen it herself. Suddenly, she shook her head, laughed, and then carried on with the conversation as if I hadn’t said anything at all.

The whole situation was so bizarre, I didn’t know what to think. Maybe that thing had some kind of control over other people as well, maybe it made them forget if they heard it’s name. I’m honestly not sure, all I do know though is I’ve learned not to say the name. Somehow there is power in that name, it makes people act differently, and then it makes the Intruder’s visits even worse. It began to show up constantly after the day I said it’s name. It was always with me, hiding just out of sight, but I knew it was there.

I’ve felt it’s bitter hold for years. Occasionally it will dissipate for days or even weeks at a time. When that happens I forbid myself from thinking that it will last, I’ve been disappointed too many times to fall for it again. I’m positive that it leaves me just so I can have a taste of what it would be like to live without it, and then it sneaks back into my life and wraps it’s arms around me again. I sometimes wonder why it chose me to feed off of, I think it enjoys when I ask it that question. If it had a mouth I’m sure it would laugh at me for wondering such a thing considering it really doesn’t matter, does it?

Most days I couldn’t even tell where my Intruder ended and I began. I found that I did not notice the days when it would leave and reappear, it was so much a part of who I was. I think that my friends and family could tell that there was something different about me although they never knew exactly what it was. Despite the fact that I had told them the name of what haunted me so many times it didn’t matter, every time they would go blank and forget what I had said.

I had completely given up hope of ever fighting against my Intruder. It had become a part of me, a part that I could never share with anyone, and I had finally accepted that. At least that’s what I had thought. One day I met someone who said that they could see it too, and they knew it’s name as well. We could actually say the name out loud to each other and neither would forget. I fell in love with that person and as our love grew the hold that our Intruder’s had on us began to slowly weaken. This isn’t some kind of perfect fairy tale ending though, I’ve never been able to get rid of my Intruder, it’s still there but at least now I’m not alone.

Finally I’m not afraid to say it’s name… Finally I’m not ashamed…

Finally I know how to fight it and be happy…

I finally have a chance against my Intruder,

or as you might know it:

Depression.