If I Lose Myself
By The Meepy Freak
The sun glided across my window as I gazed longingly at the outside world. It was summer, the hottest season, yet I still was freezing. However, I had nobody to blame but myself. I was insane! Who else would have the same nightmare for a long time? I sighed as I tried to ignore the thought. However, the memories of my dream overwhelmed me as I fell into a soft slumber again.
I was in an ice cage with my blood being the only color in the room. Tears streaked my face, yet nobody cared. In the corner of my eyes, I see people behind the freezing bars. They stare at me with disappointment and rage. Tumnus walks forward and touches the bars, wincing at the feel of the ice.
"He deserves this. He betrayed me. He sold me to the Witch. He is simply a traitor and nothing more."
The confidence behind the fawn's words startled me as I crept back onto the ice wall. Suddenly, the White Witch entered with a huge grin on her face. It scared me, yet I could do nothing. Behind her were three beings that seemed almost celestial. As she moved to the side, I saw my siblings staring back at me with their crowns dancing on top of their heads.
"Kill them," the Witch snarled as she made the ice bars trapping me melt with a flick of her wrist.
I swallowed deeply as the Witch threw a sword into my hand. As I approached my siblings, all I could feel was guilt. I wanted to kill them, yet I could not. They were innocent. I loved them. However, my body did not obey me.
As my sword reached little Lucy's chest, a push jerked me awake. I was out of breath and scared for my life. However, I could not tell anybody.
My eyes opened in a panic as I tried to make sense of the world around me. I was on my bed in my room. My blanket was draped over me. I sighed as I realized that I had experienced that dreaded nightmare again. The White Witch just never seemed to leave me alone, even when she was dead.
Outside my window, the sun was nearly at the top of the sky. It was time to get up. Slowly, I turned over, dragging the blanket with me. However, I froze in shock as I discovered another person on my bed.
Regaining control of my body, I turned back towards the window. I did not know what to tell Peter. Should I tell him the truth, or should I lie? It did not seem very kingly to lie. Nevertheless, it could not hurt to simply modify the truth. This was what the bias of omission was meant to be used for.
"Ed," Peter wrapped his arms around my figure, almost hugging me, "I know you are awake now."
I only glanced at my elder brother and reply, "So what if I am?"
However, I could never get anything past Peter. He seemed to have a sixth sense with anything concerning me, Lucy, and Susan. It was incredibly annoying.
"What happened?" He gave me a look that meant that he was not going to leave until I told.
I sighed, anticipating this moment, "I had a nightmare."
His eyes widened in realization though I knew that he still did not know the content of my nightmares. The thought calmed me a bit as I watched out my window once again to avoid the awkwardness in the room. Maybe when I was younger, I would have ran and told Peter everything as soon as I woke up. However, I had come a long way since then.
Peter did not have to worry for my sake. I could take care of myself. I made sure that I could ever since our father left for war. Then once again when the White Witch captured me. There was no use in complaining. The old me (before Narnia) would have immediately refuted that thought. However, that me is gone. I had lost that part of me, so I could be with my siblings. I was not going to risk regaining my immature behavior again, especially if it meant I would not be alongside my siblings.
However, as I changed for the better, the past still haunted me every night. Memories of the White Witch would emerge in my dreams while I was forced to kill my family in front of my own eyes. Whenever I woke up, I would see blood staining my hands as I ran to the nearest bathroom and violently washed my hands. The red never seemed to go away though. It stayed there persistently as a reminder of my idiotic decisions.
The strange thing was that nobody could see this expect me. Lucy would simply reply that my hands were as pale as the rest of my body whenever I asked her about my hands. A confused look would twist onto her face. Peter and Susan would get worried. However, I never told them the truth. I never told them how the guilt was killing me. I had already lost all of my terrible qualities because of Aslan and the White Witch. However, I was losing more than that through shame. I was losing myself.
It was a vicious cycle. I would go to sleep to live my nightmares as reality. Then, I would wake up in denial, guilt slowly consuming me. Sometimes, my siblings would come into my room to comfort me, yet I was determined I did not need anyone. I would pretend to sleep, thinking of my dreams, until they left my room. However, they only kept on getting increasingly persistent as each day passed by. Still, until now, I would win these little contests.
Nevertheless, a feeling of triumph never crossed me. Instead, I would only think of my family and friends. I did not understand. I was a traitor. How could they forgive me when I could not even forgive myself? The thought of the innocence of the people I loved warmed me as the sun would. The warmth was never enough to engulf my dark heart though.
Still, I would never imagine that Peter would be the one to finally get me to rise from my bed to his comfort. Obviously, the magnificent king was stubborn, but he was also impatient. This made him indescribable when it came to solving conflicts of the land in a court. He would only huff and go elsewhere if people refused to listen to what he would say. It would have taken a lot out of him to stay until I was ready to admit that he was awake.
However, I still could not tell him anything. I was ashamed of my guilt. Aslan had told me not to dwell on the past as he had to my siblings, yet I could not stop myself. I felt weak. I did not feel like I belonged in my family. My siblings were all strong rulers that were respected and loved by everyone. I was the opposite. As Lucy brought happiness into any room she walked in, I brought tension.
Yet, seeing Peter next to me on my bed jolted me awake in some aspect. Peter would not care so much if I was not his brother. Furthermore, if I was not Peter's brother, he would not have wrapped his arms around me. I felt comforted in a way as the guilt inside of me only grew stronger. I needed to be a better king. It was my duty to try my hardest to equal my siblings' efforts. I was just being lazy. I was being selfish.
"Edmund," Peter called out to me.
I wished to answer him in such a way that stopped him from worrying, yet my thoughts disappeared from my grasp as he hugged me. I did not deserve to be cared of. I had betrayed everybody for some sweets. No Turkish Delight was worth this pain, yet I still chose the wrong route with my bratty nature.
As I watched the window in the room, I sighed. The light was seeping through the curtains, trapped outside against their will. Sure, little streams of light travelled through the room onto the bed with me and Peter, yet the curtain was still there, blocking the light depressingly.
Instinctually, I got out of Peter's grasp and put my feet onto the floor, ignoring the shivers the cold sent through my body. I could feel Peter's questioning gaze on me while I kept on walking to the source of light of my room. I fingered the majestic curtain, feeling the soft, velvety silk in between my thin fingers. It seemed so innocent when it was the formation of guilt.
Then, to the shock of Peter and myself, I ripped the curtain from the window pane, leaving it to rest torn on the floor. A smile emerged on my pale face as the light bathed me in excitement. As I looked back to Peter, my rock, I could see his biting his lips in confusion. However, he would never understand. He had never lost himself like I have. He had never shredded his curtains as I did.
For I was the window. Aslan's light was struggling to spread through me, yet my guilt and treachery were blocking the light like an immense curtain. I was forgiven, so now I simply needed to shed all of the curtains one layer at a time. I needed to tear them from the roots and let Aslan's light shine through. I needed to be an operational window, letting light into dark places.
I needed to finally be free and fly. I could not drain into nothingness. I was stronger than that. I only needed to keep tearing, and I knew that if I lost my strength, Peter would tear down my curtains for me. He would help me become myself again.
Because if I lose myself tonight, it would only be by his side, crying into his chest, letting my curtains overwhelm me.
If I lose myself tonight…