Is This Paradise? by Aarah Leigh at Inkitt

I.

Thoriso - pronounced Toh-ree-soh

Specialist - A doctor who cares for supernaturals.

Supernaturals - Humans who possess supernatural powers

He’s here.

“Bring back my reality Thoriso,” I say with a stern voice to the intruding presence in my kitchen. Overwhelmed by the darkness he commands, I stand frozen with nowhere to go. He's made sure of that. He remains silent, slowly inching closer towards me. He hugs my waist pressing himself tightly against my body. I feel his warm breath lingering on my skin, before he plants a kiss on my neck. I gasp, feeling the sensation of his lips on my skin, sending tingles down my body. The darkness disappears, returning my surroundings and just like that he's gone. Again.

Thoriso came back to me.

I revel in the thrill of this sinful encounter wrapped up in a trance I never want to fall from. I feel tears streaming down my cheeks, jolting me out of the lie presenting itself as fantasy. Thoriso deserted me when I needed him the most. We were in it together, yet when the challenges proved to be difficult, he escaped, alone, without a thought or hesitation… leaving me behind. He has no loyalty. Why is he here? How did he find me? I don't need him, I need answers. I don't want him, I want to witness his suffering.

“I’ve already forgiven him,” is the line I would recite, each time someone told me to forgive as the Lord forgives, that the only way to healing and peace is forgiveness. Sure, let's all hold hands, sing fluffy church choruses and fly across a rainbow. I tried. I really did try. I clothed myself with all that fluff and became comfortable in my denial, until I could no longer stomach it. I can lie to everyone else but I can never lie to myself, even when I need to. I refuse to fly across that rainbow, I will not endure another bout of airsickness in the name of “love and forgiveness." I'm not The Creator, I don't have to forgive! As angry as I am, I find myself leaning into the nostalgia of who we were, what we were and what we had hoped to be, until it wears me down, inebriating me and for a moment fading the misery that is my reality.

I am woken up by tiny wet licks and little paws running up and down my body like I'm an obstacle course. My pups, Sunshine and Willow. Mom gifted them to me, not so long ago, when I had fallen into a deep hole of depression. I stayed there unable to pull myself out, hiding and staying out of sight whenever the pastor and his servants would visit, attempting to “deliver” me. “Out you spirit of depression! Out! Now! Leave her body in Jesus’ name!” This would go on and on until I forced the shell that is my body to fall to the ground. Curled up in the shadows of my mind, I would will my eyes to close causing a waterfall of tears to stream out. Only then would the "deliverance" stop. Only then would this so-called man of God and his servants leave and let me be.

Mom is a devout Christian and believes that prayer solves absolutely everything. She attends a very religious church; I would say Christian church, but it feels more like a cult. A far cry from the conservative church she raised me in. The pastor is the ultimate dictator.

Every night I would emerge from hiding to eat, hydrate and freshen up and also write a note to Mom, “I need professional help,” before returning to the deep of the darkness that had overtaken my mind. After hours and hours of these "deliverance" sessions with no promising signs of improvement, Mom resigned herself and took me to see The Specialist.

The Specialist took one look at me and advised that I adopt a pet to help me cope. “This is quite common amongst supernaturals. There isn’t a cure as yet, however we find that when we give them something to take care of, they are able to come out of the dark corners of their mind and stay here in the present dimension,” she said as she gave Mom insight. She was right, the pups keep me from falling back into the hole. Ever since they arrived, the thought of leaning into the nostalgia of my life with Thoriso has been a distant one, keeping me safe from the hole. Now he's here and it's no longer a distant thought.