Walls of Ice

I was handed this object from a man I barely knew. I remember him handing it to me and telling me to keep it a secret. “Not a word” he said, my brain agreed with him saying, no one will understand it’s power and no one could do anything about it anyway. They’ll judge me for having it in my house and this secret could not be found.

 

 

I decided to hide it in my closet, the one downstairs. No one knows about it. I keep things that I think that no one should know, inside the hidden closet. To keep it safe, to keep it hidden. From them, from myself.

To be honest I don’t think the man meant to give this object to me but he did. The power that opened my eyes to so many things, the one that keeps me alert and awake. But with it’s blessing it brings its curse. It makes the whole house wet. Warm water dripping from the ceiling, the sink, the bath tub. It seemed like the house was melting. I was going to drown. Why was this happening? How do I stop it?

 

I decided that ice was the only option, freeze the water and it would stop rising, right? So I cranked up the A.C unit and turned off the heaters.

 

All seemed well, it was doing fine in the closet, the cold was bearable. A little ice never hurt anyone, plus I thought it was kind of beautiful. Small ice crystals forming on the windows and fogging the glass. Strong ice holding everything together. Nothing could stop me. Nothing could break in.

 

Soon the temperature was dropping so low I would shiver uncontrollably. My toes, lips, fingers blue and stiff. I needed to find out how to make it stop, the house was going to collapse. I was going to collapse. Soon, I would be stuck in this ice prison forever. I searched everywhere in the house to find a cure, a heater. I even tried throwing the magical object out but it just kept coming back.

 

I heard a knock on the door. When I looked outside I saw a fire. Not just a fire, but a being. A person with the exact opposite problem. Their house was burning, but it was beautiful. It was warm. Controlled and untamed all at once. But as I got closer I noticed them melting my ice. My ice, that protected me from all things. My ice caused by my object that was my responsibility. That would never change. Never go away. I couldn’t freeze them too.

 

Keeping it cold made me numb to all that pain. The fire would sting and burn. So I ran back to the safety of my house, of my ice. Never wanting to be so vulnerable and open again.

 

I had to keep them at a distance. Never too close to me. A safe distance, so they won’t melt my ice. It was a beautiful and controllable relationship, no one could find out about the object and no one gets hurt. And if they left, there would be no hard feelings.

 

No one could know my secrets of what the object was and where it came from. The object was mine and mine only. I couldn’t invite them over and give them the opportunity to find out, to burn things and to damage the object even more. It would damage them too.

 

I could feel and sense them slowly making their way in. The slight changes in my house. The ice was melting again.

 

I tried shoving them out again, but they insisted on coming back. Like the object, it was never leaving. Or maybe the object was what was making them stay. But how could they know? They didn’t even know the object existed and if they did, wouldn't they want to run away? The terrifying thing that could harm them too? It only takes one time for your guard to be down and for them to slip in. So what was I to do?

 

Was it that obvious that my house was freezing? It was on the inside and I had let them in. Why did they even want in? What was of interest? What had caught their eye? Did they think the ice was beautiful too? Maybe they wanted to tame their fire.

 

Their persistence was wearing down my walls. The walls of ice. The farther they went, the more water there was. The warmer I was, the colder they became. I was ruining their fire. I was dragging them with me. I promised myself that I wouldn’t let that happen. This was my fault. They’re drowning with me because of my ice. Why were they doing this? They knew this was going to happen. I warned them. I told them no. I told them to leave.

 

My ice was gone and the water was up to the ceiling. Gasping for breath, I tried to open a window.

 

I told myself that people would only cause trouble. Letting them in the house would only wreck it. But did I ever listen?

 

They told me to turn off the A.C, to give up. To stop freezing the water that came. Were they insane? They didn’t understand, they couldn’t possibly.

 

I tried so hard to keep it under control. To stop the water. Plug the pipes, soak it with a towel. I couldn’t die here. No. I worked so hard for this long, was it all in vain?

 

I was drowning and it was no use. This magic object was the death of me. This sacred forbidden secret. “Fine!” I screamed. “You obviously know what to do and you refuse to leave so what? What do I do?” I looked at the burning being floating in front of me. “Why are you here?”

 

I saw him look at their fiery house outside the window. He reached his hand out to mine and waited with sad, pleading eyes. “Come on, it’ll be alright.”

 

I hesitated and took a step forward. Some water evaporated. The house on fire moved closer. It seemed the closer we became, the closer the houses became and the less extreme the cold was.

 

I saw the object floating on the other side of the room. My eyes darted from him to the object. He can’t see it. He can’t find out. He looked where I was staring. No. He’ll leave if he finds out. He looked back to me. But why did that matter? Don’t I want him to leave? Wouldn’t it just be easier? He wouldn’t get hurt. It’s too late.

 

He took a step forward and took a shaky one back. Is he angry? Sad? Disappointed? How dare I have that in my possession. How dare I keep it. How dare I accept that thing. From that man I barely knew. Was he here to give me a gift as well?

 

He began walking toward me and I retreated to the window, I shook it, it wouldn’t open or rather I didn't have the strength to open it. I was stuck. I was backed up into a corner, like a dog in a cage.

 

I deserve what’s coming. I didn’t warn him enough. I let him in and now he’s… he has the object. I saw it in his hand. That awful thing that never left. He tried burning it in his hand but it wouldn’t catch. It wouldn’t melt.

 

He came closer to me until we were only a foot apart. He dropped the object and embraced me. I’m sorry. I tried to whisper but nothing came out. Only a sob. With that sob came another.

 

I give up. With those three words the storm lifted and the water drained. A final spark came from him and hit the object. The object burned and soon it was gone. It was over.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
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