Metamorphosis
by dan jones

Anger.
Smoldering deep inside as I read her words and hear them echo between my ears.
How can she write such things?
How can she believe the labels she pins on me as dirty rags to pollute me?
My ears and face burn red with blood.
My hands clench into fists, ready to beat her words away from me.
Denial.
Fiercely, I shake my head. Surely I'm not who she says I am... Or am I?
Deep down I know I'm a good person.
Deep down I have to believe that my heart is still pure as well as my motives.
My heart aches.
Acceptance.
I remember... I hurt her in the past, and I continue to bring her pain.
I am the monster she describes.
I am what I hate, so I will wear her labels.
I feel something black coiled in my gut like a snake.
The darkness slides over my skin like a satin shadow, bringing a thin, humor-less smile to my lips.
The image she has given me fits easily. I must be a handsome devil in this black suit.
I will learn to be cold and manipulative in order to make her words true.
My heart grows cold and unfeeling.
Logic.
No. It is not like she says it is.
Force myself to remember the way it was.
Force myself to relive those painful times, probing them for the truth.
Lies will not distort my vision. I know I was wronged, and I won't suffer anymore because of it.
My heart turns to steel. My eyes snap into focus.
Realization.
We were merely children, unaware of the larger scheme of life.
Neither of us was ready to wield such awesome power.
Neither of us was ready for the responsibility that must accompany that power.
We can no longer blame each other; it is time to rise up and move on.
My lungs fill with a fresh breath as the black scales fall like ashes away from me.
Determination.