Who Are You, Really?

 

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Who Are You, Really?

VAL DAY-SANCHEZ

Copyright © 2016 Val Day-Sanchez

All rights reserved.

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The beginning

Do they know the effect they have on me? They cannot. They would never subject me to such horror and yet, they must. How could they sway and contrive me with such ease if they didn't have every inclination to manipulate me for their own devices?

They aren't the first, of course I have been the subject of one's motivations before but they were obvious. No not at first but eventually I saw through their facade, I was able to predict their odd behavior but this one - she's different.

She caught me with an assortment of sugar and honey. She was the softest part of my day. She smoothed all the rough edges. She built a sanctuary for the two of us, to protect us from the world, to shield us from the monsters, to lock us away from any leering eyes. At first I came voluntarily and then I realized I was trapped, locked in her web of tall tales and dubious deception. It wasn’t long before I realized what her kind words, endless support and bottomless pools of empathy actually were. She lured me in with breathless helplessness and I tried to save her, to show her the way but she had other plans.

She liked when we were broken. She relished in pain and suffering. When I tried to climb out of my sorrow she was always quick to remind me of how dangerous it was to leave the predictability of my miserable situation.I revealed my deepest secrets, confided in her above everyone else and she reciprocated but her confessions were lies. While I thought we were building a friendship she was only setting a trap. Each of her fraudulent memories were told to pull out my own insecurities so they could be used against me at her will.

But something happened to me. Even though after every interaction I went home feeling empty, my stomach churning, my mind in disarray as I tried to pinpoint what atrocity she had performed. She worked so mysteriously, so brilliantly deceitful that it took me a long time to realize that she was toying with me, playing a game I never realized I was a part of. After leaving her I would grapple with myself, trying to understand if I had imagined all her wrongdoing. Was I going mad? I would sit at my typewriter (my therapist) and begin to write, to make sense of my thoughts.

Every time it was the same.

I would be filled with words, they would come flooding out of me and onto the page. Then she wasn't the only one using our relationship. I began to spend time with her for my inspiration. I needed her abuses to create and I began to go to extreme lengths to receive it. She eventually caught on to my motivations or perhaps she had just grown tired of me.

She withdrew and I felt my world collapsing. Yes she was cold and cruel but she could also awaken my entire being with a smile, an offering of coffee the way I liked it, a simple gesture that I had associated with thoughtfulness, an act of a friend. When she decided she was done with me, even though our relationship was full of manipulation and disgusting in the way we used one another I could not accept that it had come to an end.

She was my muse.

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About the Author

Valerie Day-Sánchez enjoys reading and writing across genres, although young adult is her favorite at the moment. Threshold and its companion novel, Peak are her first attempts at Sci-Fi. Her other work consists of YA Fantasy Trilogy, Harlow Whittaker and contemporary fiction novel, Green Chile Cheese Fries. She received both her B.A. and M.A. in Communication Studies from New Mexico State University. Her love of the desert Southwest keeps her close to home although she loves to travel, especially when she gets a chance to try the local cuisine. Playing with her two sons and the family’s Boston Terrier, Winston, are how she occupies her time when she’ not writing.

 

 

 

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Follow Valerie Day-Sanchez, @valdaysanchez

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