Stella Andrews

Rookie - 10 Points (3rd july 1994)

Short Story- Finding Myself - Poem by Stella Andrews

I really like Myself. We seem to share the same interests in nearly everything. We dress the same, like the same music, movies, activities and so much more. We sit together at the table with a Milo and read the junk mail and newspaper or watch tv. She hates the wind when it's raining and even more despises cruelty being spread into our world like the black toxic smoke you see lurking out of old trucks. She's forever sweet and caring and holds me when I'm down. She listens to me even when I'm speaking nonsense and won't ever leave me until I'm smiling again.
She's smarter than I am. She has the ability to see things as they are, instead of seeing through rose coloured glasses like me. She somehow keeps her emotions and decision making sections of her brain very separate. I don't know how, but I admire it.

I lost her for a long time because I refused to listen to her at the edge of a storm. She told me this was only going to bring disaster but I was so restless back then and I was curious to see what it's like inside. She begged and begged me to stay, but I wouldn't listen. I turned my back on her and dived headfirst into the dark, consuming storm.
All her warnings came true, of course. Things got heavy quickly inside there. Before long, I had lost all control over the situation. The storm swallowed me whole. I lost the lifelines I had that were to guide me home and was left stranded. I had nothing. I curled myself into a protective ball and called out to Her to help me.. I screamed and screamed. But there was nothing but silence. She was gone.
I couldn't find her anymore.
Desperate, I dug a trench and squeezed myself inside. It kept me alive, safe and dry until the worse of the storm had past. I peeked my head up a few times, and every time I did, I would be smashed back down into my place. I could see the way home, but i was too scared to try for it. It was heart-breaking knowing that escape to safety was only a short trek away, but that I was too scared to face the storm on my own. I was scared it'd knock me down so hard that I'd never get up again. And so I stayed there. And waited… waited. All on my own.

After the storm had moved on, I emerged from the hole in the ground I had dug and realised for the first time just how small it was. I wondered how I had spent what felt like a lifetime in there. It was hardly big enough to accommodate a child. Was I really that small?
When I climbed out and looked around, there was nothing but ruin left behind. The storm had sucked up everything in its path, spun it around, and spat it out like a bad taste. But it was gone. And I knew what I had to do. I scaled each and every sharp piece of debris with my bare cold feet that lay in the way on my journey back home.

It was hard, but I made it. I found my way home. It is so nice to be back in a safe warm place where i do not fear for my life every waking moment.
I found Myself on a chair by a cliff and I sat down beside her. We talked for a long time. I told her I regretted not listening to her, but I wasn't sorry for the experience I had gained. I felt like a survivor. There was a lot of time to think inside that trench. I had survived and won the experience like a medal that I can hang on my wall. She understood this, the beautiful soul she is. She forgave me for my ignorance and held me until all the fear had disappeared. I knew I would always be ok as long as I had her.
Since that day, she has never left my side and I can always count on her to be there and to show me the way. I've never been alone since.

Poet's Notes about The Poem

In the way that religious believers feel God with them, I feel about someone who comes from inside my soul. I have named them Myself for now because they haven't told me otherwise. It's like they are always standing just behind me- just out of my sight. But I don't need to see her to talk to her or know she's there. I just need to feel her presence. And I'll be ok.

Comments about Short Story- Finding Myself by Stella Andrews

  • Gajanan Mishra (2/22/2013 7:00:00 AM)

    No body is alone. God is there with all. Any way. I like the poem. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Friday, February 22, 2013

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