From my book Into the Dark
DIM THE LIGHTS
“I am so tired. Tired of fighting people, governments, my own desires and needs that have no place in our world, or so I am told.
Tired of explaining myself to you. Trying to make you see who I am, and why I do what I do. I mean, does it really matter? Who are you to even care? My thoughts are my own and I should not be wasting time here writing this out for you. Not when tomorrow is such an important day.
‘Questions. Questions. The lights are bright in this room and I feel like walking over and turning them off, or even just dimming them, but I am too tired. My eyes are sleepy and I suppose I had better get this done first.
‘Who am I to care? Nobody so you tell me … not sure you are right about that you know. I think I am more than you know. I have more secrets than I will ever tell you anyway.
‘It started when I was so young. Hey, I was caring and empathic once you know! I gave a shit about people like you and what you wanted and then, one day I just didn’t care any longer. Why? Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps the lies people told, the beltings received, the abuse. Who knows. One day I did and the next day I woke up and just didn’t.
‘I worked hard though, at hiding it. Do you have any idea how much work that can take? Do you possibly have any inklings how bloody grateful I am now to tell you the truth about my feelings?
‘I am getting tireder and really should sleep.
‘You asked me to give you places in the past, names, dates… I can see you reading this and hoping to find it all out. My past, my dirty little secrets. Last laugh is mine. I am not going to tell you. Anything.
‘Shit, so tired. I am going to leave this now and come back to it tomorrow. I may tell you something then. Just a little something to tempt you, to tease you, to set you wondering.
‘Yes, tomorrow I may tell you just one secret to make you happy…. see? I care a little still.”
The prison warden put down the piece of paper he had been reading, and sighing slid the glasses off his nose and placed them on the table.
He rubbed his brow. Shaking his head he sat down at his desk
“Nothing?” shouted Ben. “He told us NOTHING?”
Charlie sighed again. Now executed they would never learn his secrets.
I’m an oil painter and photographer, who also makes time to paint with words through my short stories and published poetry. Seascapes and animals are the primary focus of my oil paintings
Experienced Community Manager with a demonstrated history of working in the fine art industry. Skilled in Human Resources, Technical Support, Oil Painting, Community Management, and Digital Art. Strong marketing professional graduated from Longcroft School.
Head of the Technical Support Department for the largest international art site on the web.
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