The woman in black …

By: Bethelhem Teame

Is there any other color darker than the black? If indeed there was, she would be the only person eligible to don one. Head to toe. In black. Head to toe. In whatever color darker than the black. Head to toe.

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There is no consolation word, no solace to comfort the woman who have fought the dark in the darkest hours of the dark. She might have survived the fight with the dark, but she has met and beheld the dark, in all its magnificence and splendor  that now she lives in the dark or the dark lives in her.  She can’t undo what has been done. The connection has already been established.  Saw him flash its darkest smile followed by his dark chuckles that roared in the middle of that dark night.

Now she is the only one who recognizes the face of the dark, the real darkness in its truest form, without its mask.

The woman in the black, caste away her white gown after her encounter with the  dark.  She has chosen to don black after her fight with the dark soiled the whiteness of her existence. She earned it, the black attire given to her by the dark.  A token of his dark love. When the dark descends again, she makes sure, he recognizes her and their night in the dark. The woman in the dark has a question she wants to ask the darkness that swallowed her friends one by one that dark night.

A confrontation with the dark and the woman in black. A reminder of what has happened that dark night. When dark and darkness befell on the woman now in black and her friends that visit her every night in the dark whispering to her in the darkest language from beyond the grave, where darkness has them imprisoned and shackled for indefinite time. Their helpless and agonizing cries and shrieking from that dark night replaying in her ears, in the dark attacked by the dark. The woman in the dark wakes up screaming in the night, surrounded by the dark. She sits by the dark corner in the middle of the night and relives that dark night, when she met darkness and faced the dark.

She closes her eyes and everything goes dark. She opens her eyes and sees the dark. She dreams and there also meets the dark.

That dark night when darkness took all of hers and left darkness in its wake. That’s when the dark started to reside in her. When the guide who was to help them cross the border, abandoned them in the middle of the night, wherever they turn to was pitch dark.  Dark sky. Dark earth. Dark situation. Dark life that made them choose the dark road towards the stairs of the chambers of the darkness. When four of them were left in the dark. When fear hovered over the dark night, taking his cue, come the dark covered in the shawl of darkness and owned the night with a splendor of a dark knight.

Its eyes were glowing in the dark night, the messenger of the darkness that stood before its pack, the darkness in the form of the beast of the night. Following his prey in a frighteningly calm and calculated demeanor that can be felt in the dark.  It’s teeth and claws were sharp. The fight was over before it began. As the four preys hold to their dear life against the evil of the darkness.

When the messenger of darkness growled in the middle of the dark night, ululating victory to the dark, when their helpless cries were muffled by his dark sound, when his claws attacked and his teeth bore into the flesh and spilled blood, darkness favored the sacrificed blood from his dark altar.

His prey were calling each other’s name and God’s. They were calling names of parents and siblings in a desperate attempt to stay alive. In the middle of the deserted land, where darkness rules and commands, their cries of agony and pain, anger and desperation were replaced with groans of anguish at their dark fate that fed them to the hunger of the dark.

The dark came and took what was abandoned. The dark showed no mercy but demanded blood. The dark cut into their fleshes and chewed the bones that have grown cold on the ground. The dark danced on the blood pool of her friends as she lay there injured, blacking in and out of the dark reality that surrounded her dark story and theirs. She could hear her friends agony and anguishes, as their bones were being crushed, their blood gushing, life slipping slowly from their bodies, as darkness plucked the roses it found without a gardner or fence in the middle of the dark night.

Darkness couldn’t see clearly in the dark. How else can be explained her existence and survival? Drank from the blood of her friends and a sip of hers, he forgot to collect her soul? In the middle of the darkness that is darker than the dark, laid the woman in the black, closing her eyes for the dark in her attempt to erase the face of darkness she has outlined with the faint movements of her fingers that were crushed by the dark, when darkness fought her in the dark.

But darkness left her behind in the dark, not because darkness can’t see in the dark as my foolish assumption earlier but because darkness planted a dark seed in the womb of the woman in black. The seed grew inside her and occupied her from inside out. The reminder of her night with the darkness in the dark.

Pic from: http://lilliemcferrin.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/dark-darkness-girl-light-lost-Favim.com-118417.jpg

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