sadness
One day I heard a loud knocking at my door, so I curiously peeked through my curtains to see who it was. At the time was in a fragile state, so as you can imagine, I was shocked to see the terrifying eyes of a grizzly beast staring back at me. I frantically ran away from my window, tripping over the clothing that littered my messy bedroom floor. I knew that beast, its name was Sadness, and it was not welcome in my home. I thought, if I were very quiet and pretended that nobody was in, Sadness would go away, but it just sat there outside waiting for me, like a vulture flying over its prey. I had no other option but to run, so I packed my bags, and like a mouse, I creped through my garden and then sprinted as fast as my legs could carry me into the wild. I ran for many days, up steep hills and down through tunnels; I swam through roaring rivers and climbed up jagged mountains, but however far I went, I could always hear Sadness’s heavy feet thumping against the earth just behind me. After many days I could run no more, my blisters were pealing, my back was throbbing, and my belly rumbling like thunder, and so I gave up, curled up into a ball, and waited for the monster to gobble me up, tear me apart and leave me for dead on the cold, rocky mountain—Thump, thump, thump. The sound of Sadness’s large feet became louder and louder and louder until I could hear the scratch of his sharp claws against the grey stony mountain top. I braced myself, expecting Sadness to swallow me whole.
For a moment, the world fell silent, and then I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. I tentatively looked up at the large grizzly beast and was taken aback; Sadness had kind eyes, the colour of the muddy puddles you splash and play in as a child. The creature embraced me, cradling my weary body in its warm arms, my head resting against its thumping heart. Suddenly, and without warning, I began to cry, like a newborn infant, whaling and whaling until I had not one tear left to spare: so, sadness picked me up and carried me home, down the rocky mountain, through the roaring rivers and dark tunnels, over the steep hills, back to my warm bed. The friendly beast switched on my comforting side lamp, which radiated a warm glow, tucked me in and then wandered downstairs. I could hear the cluttering of cutlery — Thump, thump, thump; the beast walked back up my wooden steps and then appeared in my doorway with two steaming cups of tea. We both sat there for a while in silence; my eyes were tired and still stinging from the tears I had shed, but I felt fulfilled because I had emptied the bucket that sat so heavy in my heart.