Dogs

Every damn night. The dogs are chasing me.

I made mistakes, and the dogs remember them. They chase me like predators, as I am prey that runs to escape. They are images that do not fade. With time, they darken. They expand into ominous signs, like a bad omen. I remember moments that do not change. They are squeezed into the past and stay there. It was my choice, my mistakes. I wanted them. I did them.

Hyenas are in my head. They bully me and make me believe I am still wrong. Someone is barking. It is not me, it is them, the Dogs. They chase me, shadows fill my life, and at every turn, I meet them. I accepted them, I welcomed them, I petted them. A greedy self, sure of security, an ego that had fun, while the dogs await.

Dogs.

The bitches bite me, they rip me apart from the inside, they find every crack, every part of me that I don’t heal, they dig deeper. They bite. No one helps, no one knows my dogs. Everyone has their own dogs.

The pet seems sweet. At the first innocent whim, it licks my hand and whines for more caresses. I was immediately bitter when it bared its teeth on me. The implications grew while I didn’t worry, while I turned my eyes away so I wouldn’t see, denying their natural urges. They were wild, and I became wild, too. Now I can’t escape. The dogs belong to me.

They tear me to pieces. I let them, I feed them. I give them a piece of my flesh. They want more. They listen, they guard, they attack. I complain. But I know them by now.

I force them to throw themselves on me. I forgot that I left them; I didn’t tie them up. I forgot that I chose and created them. No one is to blame. The dogs are mine. They live with me. The dogs are me. My damn self doesn’t change. These are my dogs.

My children. I take care of them. I am waiting for the next attack, which is like a habit by now. I wait for them in the fall of the life I created. Dangerously. Every night, I wait quietly. As they approach me, I remain still. As they smell me, I remain unperturbed. They look for the ideal moment when I am unable to tame them. That’s when I finally surrender, and they eat me alive.

They approach, I hear them, their breath closer. They bark.

Created by Diana Chemeris

Story in Greek: https://fairytalesmaybereal.blogspot.com/2017/05/blog-post.html