Captivated by shadows [h.s.]

3.

"And the night bore hateful doom and black fate
And death and sleep and the brood of dreams".

I could still remember those lines very well. These lines were once written by a Greek poet called Hesiod. My mother had often read his poems to me back then, and the poem about the descent from Thanatos was particularly burned into my mind. It's absurd that I think about it now.

Thanatos was the Greek god of death and was born from the union of night and darkness. He was regularly described as a beautiful god and was compared to Eros the god of love, but death was not a popular theme in Greek mythology and so most people believed that Thanatos stood for a horrible and painful death, but the poet Hesiod described it completely differently.

He says that Thanatos' sister Keres represents a bloodthirsty death and he was the complete opposite, because he represents a peaceful death.

There was no particular reason why I had to think about this poem. I guess because I probably didn't know yet whether I would live or die in the next few hours.

I had lost all sense of time. My wrists were burning like fire and even though I couldn't see them, I knew that I had rubbed them sore on the ropes. The light bulb dangling from the ceiling flickered slightly, followed by a soft crackling sound.

Is Maya already wondering where I am?

Nobody knows where I am and what kind of hell I just went through. At a time like this, it's pretty inconvenient to have almost no friends. There's no one worried or wondering why I'm not answering the phone.

But I don't think even the people who know me tried to call me.

Maya is already used to me never calling her on my own because she knows I'm a person who enjoys being alone, and since I moved out of my mum's house I've only been in contact with her once a week. Unfortunately I spoke to her on the phone two days ago so it might be take a while before she realises something is wrong.

I just don't know if it will be too late by then

My younger sister is studying somewhere in a city that's over two hours away from here and when she's not sleeping she's in the library all the time, so I hardly have any contact with her either. She's so busy studying that she wouldn't even notice if her phone was missing.

Would anyone miss me if I were dead?

Another question that crept into my head and every time I was trying to find an answer, the next question popped up and gave me a headache.

Would I see my grandfather again when I die?

A smile forms on my lips. I would be really happy to finally see him again. It would calm me down a bit if I knew that he was already waiting for me with open arms and that I could finally find peace at the place where he was, wherever that is.

I'm not a religious person, I've never been, but if I believed in God, now would be the moment when I would doubt my faith.

Why would God let something like this happen to me?

I definitely believe in a higher power. I believe in something that controls our fate, but here I ask myself:

Who would allow a situation like this to be anyone's fate?

Sighing, I close my eyes. The crackling of the light bulb is driving me crazy and if I only have to stare at this white bare wall for another minute, then I will gladly welcome death with open arms.

I would rather die than be stuck here for another few hours. Not knowing what happens next drives me to an edge of despair that I've never been to before.