Latisha tucked her hair behind her ear as she sat in front of the therapist. So if he were sitting here today, what would you tell him? Seemingly bereft, Latisha looked out the window. It’s snowing she thought, as a flashback came over her.
It was 0 degrees. She walked up to the house where her brother lived. An echelon in the mountains. The sun was bright but she knew better. She waited her whole life to confront him. Now is the time, she kept repeating in her head. She put her old key in the door and tapped the gun in her pocket.
I would say, Women suffer around you.
As she walked in, white covered the walls decor floors and ceilings. She waited like she always did at the table. And they would come like they always did.
I would say, You collect them.
Later a woman would emerge from the bathroom. Then another two from the bedroom. They would each give her a tired glance, then sit on the couch, their faces sunken in. There he came, walking past her toward the women, his body laying down longways.
I would say, I dreamt about you - I know about you.
Seem like you lost some weight sis. Yeah Donny, she stood up. You like them skinny don’t you. She got closer to the couch, grabbing at her inner thighs. Look at me she screamed. I’m fuckin skin and bones just like you left me! Latisha pulled the gun in slow motion.
Was it the dream in which he threw you off the cliff? Yes she replied.
Donny ran out the front door as gun shots rang. The women fell over each other rushing back to the rooms. Latisha walked calmly through the snow following Donny, with her gun pointed all the while. He was walking backwards now, toward a guardrail, telling her to let it go-that it was over now. I’ll never touch you again I swear on mom’s grave Tisha. Latisha stood upright. Do you remember when you chased me to this very guardrail, how I ran so fast not knowing it was a cliff, but you did. The way you pushed me off without a thought in your fuckin head. Down I fell, 9,000 feet into the frozen sea. Water filling my clothes mouth hair and pores. That’s what it was like being your sister. I’m lucky to be alive. But you are not.
Thank you for bearing witness to Darkness Thriving. Some of my stories are inspired by dreams, as I dream almost every night. This one was.
Jennifer Diane is a witch scholar, writer and model based out of New Jersey. Since 2017, she has not stopped gathering self-help resources in an effort to grow where everything was dead. Her offerings include resources on Darkness Thriving, books and zines at Endeavors of Horror, one on one sessions for The Darkness is the Light, and radical truth on the Enlightenment through Hellfire podcast.