28 Nov


Emile Cronjé
1 min readNov 28, 2020

Lisa opened her eyes. She couldn’t move. Five shapeless presences hovered around her bed. What do you want? She asked them with her thoughts.

We want to inspect an alien, they replied. Lisa went cold. Where was she? Was this her bed?

You are alien, she said. You are in my house. They started laughing — if laughing is what you could call it. The shapeles forms shivered and lights bounced around them. It lit up the room. We are all other, they said and extended tendrils of light to her body.

Lisa’s mind screamed at the invasion of her body but her heart and her gut exploded with release. The tendrils sought out the points of tension and started untangling her. They untied the knots in her stomach. They eased all the aches and pains locked up in her joints.

She felt her painful memories leave. She watched her wounds slip away. She cried and cried and cried, emptying out the vessel of her being.

When the presences had finished feeding from her trauma, they spoke again.

We have been feeding from your pain and fear for millenia. We do not create them. You experience them. Don’t be imprisoned — you can move and grow beyond trauma.

But you have to let go first.