the Judas inside


Last night was eventful in ways I do not wish to consider right now. So many little things occurred in such short time that I neglected to force myself to really think. My superstitions and uncertainty took over and I was left a sniveling child longing for her mother’s arms.

Terror is a feeling I was familiar with as a child. It was brought on by that which I could touch and feel, and the horrifying imaginations those things left me with. I’ve denied myself the luxury of that feeling since the day I left home. Last night was the single exception in all of these years. So many pieces fell into place in the deep and dark of the night, that I could not gather myself, or make strong. However, I’m happy that it happened.

I think that, perhaps, the events that transpired last night were needed in order to cleanse me of my arrogance where this place is concerned. Since He died, I’ve forced myself to endure the black night with no fear, when storms took the light away and the darkness was all encompassing and unscathed by manmade light. I have refused fear of the noises and frightening tidbits that He would address for me, when He lived. I have refused to so much as pick up my gun, even when I was certain that trouble lurked somewhere beyond my sight. Last night, I learned that all of these self imposed lessons meant nothing if I allowed my guard to come down; if I failed to respect the truth in the natural world I live in and allow superstition and fear to run their course.

Looking back, I see the pieces of the night and how they fit together to create the sheer terror that I felt. I see the moment in which I gave in to that terror. ‘Fear’ simply does not touch on the extreme emotion that caused my heart to pound, ears ringing from the vantablack horrifica and the unseen weapons it presented and used against me. Yet, with a few hours sleep and the light of day, I feel purged of something…something that I can’t quite put a finger on. I feel clean and solidly at peace with myself. Terror is an all-engaging emotion. It leaves no part of your body, soul or spirit untouched by its power. It’s an internal test of faith and strength and all such things that allow us to walk bravely through this world. Terror will strip you to the bone, deconstructing and rearranging your perception. It is an anesthetic that paralyzes everything strong within you. It is an adversary that you cannot allow to win.

I never missed my beloved desert as much as I did last night. In this place, trees lock you in like prison bars and deny you view of what lies beyond. The desert, a proud and treacherous lady, is still gracious enough to grant you clear view of what might come from miles around. There is more comfort in that than I ever realized. Until last night.


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