The Cold

You bathe in the sunlight of spring,
While I’m forever stuck in this dreary autumn.
Like a flower that will never bloom,
Forever in this dreary autumn…

This dreadful emptiness,
The cold, cold world.
You slammed the door on me,
you locked me in the cold.

Every person in Lyra’s world has a daemon…it would be very strange for people to see someone without one. It’d be just as strange as seeing someone without a head. Someone without a daemon would be considered horribly mutated — missing something essential.

silenthill

I’m at the train station when it suddenly dawns on me that I left my baggage at the hotel. I can’t come back home without my things. I rush to the hotel, hoping that I’ll just grasp my bags and manage to catch the train. I explain the matter to the receptionist, she takes a bunch of keys and I follow her upstairs. She opens the door and lets me in. I pick up my things, among them such important stuff as money, documents and an identity card and pack them to the suitcase. There are also some old useless newspapers, which I throw into a dustbin.

I’m just about to leave when I notice a small box on the shelf. I reach for it and open…

I can’t even find the proper words to describe how I feel when I open the mysterious box. There is an animal in the box, a chinchilla, thirsty and in agony. I took it with me on a holiday, put it aside and forgot about it. For three days I was having fun while it was locked in the dark box, suffering, without food and water. It bites me while I try to touch it. I’m crying when I’m holding it under the tap and it is drinking.

The same nasty tiresome dream, repeating itself over and over again. The details vary, but the message is the same. I discover something I forgot about, a nearly dead animal in pain, hungry, thirsty, neglected. The remorse I feel is overwhelming. I never felt like this in all my life. I feel so bad about myself and about what I did that I would prefer it were dead so that it wouldn’t remind me about my guilt.

I hope that one day I will find my poor suffering pet, my lost Self. I hope that one day I will learn what I’ve been doing wrong all my life. I’m sure I won’t like the revelation.

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