The psychiatrists call it Survivors guilt. But what if I had actually been guilty?
Nobody believed me of course when I shared the truth, they just brushed it off as a trauma response. That I just made the whole story up in order to give meaning to an otherwise meaningless accident.
But I know they are wrong. I know what I saw. I know because it had been following me the weeks before.
I am not crazy.
And now I will tell my story to anyone who will listen. It will then be your choice to whether you believe me or not.
It had begun around 2 years ago in the early days of March. I had found an old book in our local library. It was a pure accident that I stumbled upon it but now looking back I believe that there was a greater game at play. One that had been going on for a while.
The book was titled ‘Non Solum’. It had been leather bound, however its corners were blackened as if someone had tried to burn it. If I’m being honest It was it’s peculiar nature that made me feel compelled to bring it home, even if the language was foreign to me.
What I did not know was that it would be first mistake of many to come. Because the very next night was the first time I met them. Or should I say ‘it’ for it resembled no identifiable form. Because instead of seeing it, you felt it. That looming presence.
I understand why you might be skeptical towards what I’m saying. I really do. How strong could my conviction of a presence be when it is based of a mere feeling but i tell you this: The human soul knows.
It knows, so when you close your eyes, wanting to go to sleep and suddenly almost every terrifying image bombards your mind, it is for a reason.
The reason being something you cannot see is near.
And so when you are filled with dread and alertness it is a manner of protection, as the inability to fall asleep prevents you from laying yourself vulnerable.
No, Instead you are most likely turn on the lights and wait a little until the feeling has passed. Because only when it has do you know that you are truly safe.
Or the strange sense of fear you get when waking up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. Where it is almost as you are compelled to hurry, to run across the hallway and quickly close the door. That seemingly childish habit of never letting your arms or legs dangle off the bed for when you do a tingling awareness rises in your mind.
Because despite it’s ridiculousness everything that you felt compelled to do, had saved you.
All these daily experiences are what has led to most of humanity surviving Its presence. Due to a built in instinct we do not acknowledge out loud.
And I hope that the fear you feel only lasts for those fleeting minutes. I hope that you will never have to undergo what I did.
I had been holding the book in my hand when It arrived. Like anybody after buying a strange book, I was planning on starting to decipher its foreign words and learn its story. In truth I had always been surrounded by books ranging from forgotten histories to children’s stories as my parents had been librarians, so you cannot blame me for being intrigued.
It was only shortly after that I felt my whole body constrict. I hadn’t even been able to open the first page. The windows had been closed and yet a chilling breeze had flown in.
And I froze. There was nothing I could do except clutch the edges of the book until my knuckles turned white and wait. I waited until time itself had blended together. I waiting for the feeling to pass in a few minutes like usual but it didn’t.
I withstood these ‘episodes’ for a week before I truly felt like I was going out of my mind. I could not eat without throwing it up, could not sleep or laugh. My body was in a constant state of fear, trembling from the slightest movement. The feeling of being watched every second overpowered any other sense.
By the end I had gone to several therapists and they all said the same thing. Prescribed me the same medication until finally I took them.
And it had worked. It was like that part of my mind had shut off. I had laughed at my stubbornness. It was a medical condition that was treatable. It had nothing to do with all the crazy theories I had put together. It was only later that I learnt how wrong I was.
But I had been filled with newfound appreciation. So, quickly on a whim, I decided to travel abroad, to get out of my house and away from the area. For the first time I felt free. And I was not going to waste it.
But that was my second mistake.
Because despite the medication, while I had been seated on the plane thinking about all the things I could do, the feeling had returned and flooded me so quickly that I threw up. I could feel its presence everywhere.
The plane had begun to shake.
And several moments later through the intercom the frantic yell of ‘Mayday’ filled my ears.
I don’t remember much of the next few months. I had been in a coma for 2 weeks. When I awoke, I was bombarded with a variety of questions.
‘What is your name?’
‘Do you know where you are?’
‘What is the last thing you remember?’
I answered each question solemnly and only when I was finally left with my own thoughts did I realize.
I felt calm. Alone. That feeling of true fear that had haunted me for weeks had gone. It had moved on. I made sure to check what medication I was on. None showed the one I had been taking.
I was too happy to understand why. I believed that I had been given a second chance. The ability to breathe without terror, and move without shaking had been liberating.
Only later did I start to put it all together.
I learnt that the incident had killed 59 people. Only I survived.
I had angered it by getting rid of the terror that plagued me. And It did not hesitate to leave me a gift. I have no doubt that the responsibility I would feel regarding those those deaths are the reason I was left alive.
And finally, my third mistake was checking the news. A woman had been speaking. Tears clung to her cheeks, and when I looked into her grief-stricken eyes the despair in it was almost tangible. I had turned on the volume.
‘My husband and 2 kids were on that plane. They were coming back from visiting their grandparents. We were going to celebrate their birthday tomorrow and I had stayed home and spent all day baking the cakes and preparing the presents. Their friends were going to come over tomorrow, it was going to be their first big party and they talked about it for weeks. They were a bit late, so I waited. I waited at home surrounded by the decorations, presents and food even when it had turned dark but I-‘
I had turned off the TV. I couldn’t bear to listen to anymore. Her voice shook as she told her story. I had thrown up 3 more times afterwards.
I cannot bear write anymore, but at least now you now know that I am the reason peoples loved ones were taken away. Who gave such pain and suffering to the innocent. I should never had boarded the plane. I should have never taken the book. I should have done my research.
I should have done everything differently. But I didn’t.
And I do not blame you if you hate me for it.