Deep Within

She can’t hide, no matter how hard she tries,

Her secret disguise behind her lies,

At night, she cries away, her private eye

Shut tight and staring at her inside…

(Linkin Park – Carousel)

She knows that something’s wrong. She sees it. She feels it. There’s something awkward in the air. Something foreboding. Something dark.

She’s been feeling it for a while now – a deep, unsettling anxiety that has been growing steadily each day. The life that she’s been leading for the past few months – the shallow mimicry of a mortal student’s daily routine – is about to come to an abrupt and irrevocable close. She dwells on borrowed time – and she knows it.

She can’t tell how it will all end, but knowing the gravity of her recent actions, she can only assume that it will not be a pleasant finale. And yet, this insight alone does not trouble her as much as she would like to believe. Of course she might later on regret the cheerful days spent in the mortal world, when her greatest concerns would be waking up on time for the first period of the day or bickering with an annoying classmate for one petty matter or another. But that is circumstance that she is willing to admit and to cope with. The problem lies elsewhere – and, much as she’d like to push it at the back of her mind or, better still, discard it altogether, she can’t help but dwell on it each day, fearful of what may come to be, and yet dreadfully wishing that it would all be over soon. Her incongruous thoughts do little to alleviate her anxiety; if anything, they nourish it further on.

Deep within, she knows that she should leave his side, that she should keep him out of the way and shoulder the blame herself. But she can’t bring herself to do it. She simply can’t. Instead, she clings with increasing desperation to the frail illusion of her mortal life, hoping against all hope that Soul Society will somehow overlook her actions and leave her be. But she knows very well that this is a dead faith.

As it is, she can but lie to herself every now and then that everything will be all right – knowing at the same time, with sickening certainty, the untruthfulness of this last hope.