Daniella, a serial killer, was standing right in front of Angie, a seventy-three-year-old woman. In the darkness of her mind, Daniella had a conflict on her shoulders.
To kill or not to kill? Do I want to kill her for my benefit? Do I lack empathy? Is this the true depiction of a human within me?
Daniella was having difficulty comprehending what she was feeling. She could not contain the agitating insanity of her brain. She was struggling to keep images of insanity out of her thoughts as she stared at Angie, tied uncomfortably in her bed.
“If you are just one, then why are TWO shadows reflected on the wall?” Angie asked, trembling.
“The one to your right is probably the instigator. It’s responding to the pain I’m going through because I don’t really want to kill you.”
“And…the left one?”
“It’s probably the shadow of reason,” Daniella clarified, frowning.
Both shadows were unique and served a purpose. Daniella wanted to murder quickly, but she didn’t. The shadows were battling to gain predominance. Each shadow had a distinctive response to Daniella’s serial killer actions. They were causing mayhem. Daniella had put the murder on pause.
“If both shadows are coming from you then why is one shadow darker than the other?” Angie’s lips quivered and her legs fidgeted.
The pattern of darkness made both shadows different even though they came from the same person. Each shadow had a different personality and emotion. Daniella stood there quietly, unflinching, listening and watching Angie squirming and screaming. Daniella had a sharp, serrated knife, angled in such a way as if ready to stab Angie.
Suddenly, Daniella scurried towards Angie as the darker shadow started shouting profanities which only Daniella could hear. The lighter shadow tried to block the commotion.
Angie stopped moving and fidgeting as she witnessed Daniella’s indecisiveness.
“What’s stopping me? Why do I feel so odd inflicting the killer blow?” Daniella muttered.
Daniella was listening to the shadows, but still watching Angie, with the knife set for destruction. The serrated knife was ready to rip apart the flesh in Angie’s body. Daniella was exercising herculean patience.
The darker shadow looked more determined, with the intent to kill. It grew larger and darker and covered the whole perimeter of the room, engulfing the lighter shadow. The shades of darkness kept propping in and out. Daniella started to visualize an arching fountain of blood beginning to fill the room.
The lighter shadow still carried the light of Daniella’s consciousness with immense energy wrapped within. Though extremely small and feeble in comparison with the power of darkness, it was still a light, her only light. Daniella didn’t want to miss the fulcrum point, the ecstatic dimension of her own being. A great deal of energy emanated from her ordinary lighter shadow. The power of waiting and consciousness paid off while both shadows worked out their conflict. The shadow of consciousness won.
Daniella walked out without hurting Angie.
Author’s note: This story is my interpretation from my inner belief of India’s three terms describing sainthood: Sat, Chit, Ananda. Sat is the existential stuff of life(mostly the left side of the balance); Chit is the ideal capacity(mostly the right side of balance); Ananda is the bliss, joy ecstasy of enlightenment—the fulcrum of the seesaw.
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