Adolescent at 42
written by: Sunflower
Adolescence came.
On a spring day, when radiant cherry blossoms bloomed and the blue sky stretched above, Adolescence arrived—like a sudden downpour of wailing hailstones.
I was 42 years old.
Sharp hailstones pierced my chest like pointed blades. Blood gushed out.
I stood silently, sobbing in the middle of the street.
It hurts. It hurts so much.
But I can’t say I’m in pain.
If I cry out loud, the hyena will find me and devour me.
In the distance, the hyena’s sharp teeth glint as it watches me silently. A friendly smile stretches across its face, but dark, crimson blood drips from its fangs as it takes deliberate steps toward me.
I know. I know the hyena is waiting—for me to fear, for me to grieve. It feeds on my sorrow, my fear, and my endless doubts, growing larger and drawing closer every day.
So, I cry silently. Swallowing my screams, I press down on my chest and tighten my throat to keep the hyena of puberty from devouring me.
“Save me… save me… save me…
Please… save me.”
A sweet, soothing poison candy lies within reach. All I have to do is stretch out my hand, pop it into my mouth, and all this pain will disappear. Forever…
A small girl, deep within my heart, sobs and whispers.
Listen to me. I’m here. So, please, listen to me now.
She wears tattered clothes, her hair falls out in patches, and she reeks like a homeless vagrant. The stench surrounds her as she pleads with me.
The sweet, citrusy aroma of the poison candy numbs my mind. It’s more compelling than the girl’s weak voice.
But the girl cries out again.
Don’t. Stop. Aren’t you sick of it? You know what that candy smells like. You know it’s not as sweet as it seems. You know that sweetness will stop your heart in an instant.
My hand, reaching for the candy, slows down. I listen closely to the faint voice of the small girl.
I want to live. I don’t want to die.
I comfort the small girl.
This candy will free us from all this pain. We won’t have to run from the hyena anymore. We’ll finally be free.
The girl replies in a feeble voice.
You’ve never listened to me. You’ve never wanted to. I hate myself so much.
The small girl cried and cried.
I replied, “I hate you too.”
Yes. We hated each other fiercely. The girl and I were like two beings living in completely separate worlds.
But then, the girl speaks again.
Love me. Forgive me and love me. Hold me. And please, stop hating me.
The girl’s desperate plea stops my hand from reaching for the candy.
That’s how I endured another torturous and lonely night. The ravenous hyena still watches me, but the girl’s desperate plea holds me back, and I fall asleep.
Not eternal sleep, but a temporary rest for tomorrow.
I know the night will return tomorrow. The hyena will glare at me again, and the girl will cry once more.
But tonight, just for tonight, I’ve decided to rest.
The girl is the part of me that was locked away long ago, a part I’ve never truly faced. And now, I finally see her.
Her cold, smelly hand is hard to hold. The stench is overwhelming and makes me hesitate.
Her weak but sparkling eyes meet the hyena’s, filled with malice. Strangely, a small light glimmers in her eyes, blinding the hyena.
Drawn to that small light, I manage, despite the difficulty, to hold her hand gently. And I feel her warmth, deep within my chest, where I thought no warmth could remain.
Her tears become my tears, and my tears become hers.
The hyena’s face contorts. Its once-sharp teeth are now nothing more than dull stumps, and its sneering smile vanishes.
It transforms into a pathetic mutt, lying forlornly in the corner. Yet the hyena hasn’t given up. It seems to know it will regain its strength someday, flashing a cunning smile as it moves slowly into the darkness.
But I know.
My war with the hyena isn’t over.
Just not tonight.
Tomorrow, or the day after, the hyena could come back to devour me.
The small girl grips my tiny hand tightly. Her weak but bright eyes smile warmly, enveloping me with comfort.
I realize something.
She is real. She’s not a fake.
Her hand will protect me from the hyena now.
In a brief moment of clarity, the girl and I take our difficult first step together.
I know the hyena, now a pitiful mutt, will never threaten me the same way again.
We became one.
And I am no longer alone.
- Adolescent at 42 - February 27, 2025
