chapter 23: another step back
Mitsuha 5 July
I try to run, but terror grabs hold of my legs, chaining me to the ground. The shards fall from the night sky, telling me I'm running out of time. I feel my mind leave my body, reminding it to say something, to leave the terror behind, but my body doesn't listen. I get a glimpse of Yotsuha and Grandma in the distance, and then they're gone, brutally ripped apart. I cry out as dread, horror and loneliness strike me. I can't help but fall to the ground and wait. Wait for my death, my impending doom.
Finally, it falls from the sky. Its shimmer; its shine. I take it in, trying to forget it.
Its tip drives straight through my heart, without fail. Everything goes cold, numb, dark.
The lights come on, and I open my eyes. I can't help but feel disheartened: it has been a month since the first appointment, but nothing seems to work. The visualisation practices haven't helped: the nightmares continue to haunt me at the door of sleep. And during the sessions, I still haven't been able to speak up. In fact, it's almost as if the nightmares know I am getting better, and are trying their hardest to stop me.
I initially believed that maybe this was normal; you can't expect improvements overnight, right? But I'm starting to lose hope at this point. There have been no improvements, and there is still no visible road to recovery. Just when I could catch a glimpse of the light at the end of the tunnel, it was brutally ripped away, leaving me in an even darker place than before.
My heart is flooded with shame: I try to avoid Emiko's eyes, but from my peripheral vision, she holds a smile, but I know that beneath that forced facade lies discouragement. Her smile, supposedly to encourage me, only serves to remind me of my failure at visualising. My mind begins to wander off into hopelessness, into despair.
Is it even worth it?
Will I even get better?
Can I even get better?