“We had a plan to build a wall. A great divide that would never fall. To separate us from all the pain. And keep our skeletons locked away. And brick by brick we built it so thick that it blacked out the sky and all the sunlight. And one by one we all became numb. We were making the bullets to a broken gun… I’m on the run from the thief I let into my head. I know, I hold the keys, so don’t be scared when I turn and shout.”

-Trevor McNevan, Fly On The Wall

My hands are dry. They are cracked. Bleeding. Calloused. Dirty.

I found one. My curiosity got the best of me. A desire to see what would happen. So I laid it at my feet. I then happened upon another. In haste I ran to where I placed the first one. I laid it beside the previous. Then I came upon another. I again laid it beside the others. Then I came upon another. And another. And another. In time I had bordered my world with a surrounding line. I was in the center of it all. “What if?” I had pondered. I came upon another. This time I started a new row on top of the other. Alternating between the original two that I laid. As I found more, I repeated the process until another row was cast upon the last. But it wasn’t good enough.

As time went on I continued my endeavor. A hard work that eclipsed the slow damage of the hands. Another row. And then another. “Higher!” I shouted with joy. “Higher!!!” I wondered within myself “What will they say?” “Will they speak of this wall for generations to come?” “Will they talk of the man that constructed it out of sheer will and passion?” “Will they stand in awe at its massive size?” “Will they exclaim ‘One man did this?!’” I had one path of determination. Razor sharp focus with razor thin patience. “Tunnel vision” they call it. Nothing else mattered. Obsession came upon me. I shall build the biggest wall ever. One that completely encompasses me. Higher than any eye can see.

My divorce from The World.

My own World.

My Monument.

My Mausoleum.

Upon the completion of this wall, as I swept a bead from my brow, my focus shifted. I heard something. Voices from the other side. What were they saying? Were they trying to ask me a question? Were they seeking an answer? Or were they trying to tear me apart? “Madman” they must have called me. I know it. I just know it! “He is a fool with his silly wall! Let us knock it down and get him!” I just know that is what they were saying. I looked upon my fortress. It wasn’t good enough.

Therefore I returned to work. I laid down another before my feet. And another. And another. In time my worn hands dated the bricks with crimson. I bled here then. I bled there when. It did not matter. In time I had become used to the pain. It had become a part of me. Numb. In time I stood and looked upon my creation. Another wall. One within the other. Doubled. But those voices again. It still was not good enough.

I laid yet another at my feet. And another. More! More! MORE! Do not stop! I cannot stop! I must carry on through the pain. I… must… go… on. And yet… it still was not good enough. I laid yet another at my feet. And it still was not good enough. It never was. It never would be. 

Therefore I laid another at my feet.

I stood for a moment. A rest to let the pain subside. If it was willing. A moment to take it all in. My hands caressed some of them. I felt something familiar. Words. Each one of them bore writing. Stamped by their maker. Proclaiming where it originated.

“Fear”

“Anxiety”

“Hopelessness”

“Despair”

“Hate”

“Paranoia”

“Confusion”

“Depression”

“Death”

I was taken aback by these words. I had wrapped my world up in them. They were all that I could see. A reminder as to how I had gotten here and what had buried me. Swallowed me whole. I could no longer hear from the outside. These words were all that had spoken to me. I shouted back at them to leave me be. Yet they absorbed my every scream. Only to echo back silence. I tried to escape them from the outside. To create solace. Yet they deceived me. They followed me. They became the very wall that tortured me.

Realization had come. I had built too many walls. They were too thick to be penetrated. Too high to climb. Too narrow to even raise my arms to begin any semblance of ascent. No one would hear me. Would they even remember me? That I built this wall to hide behind? Or has this monstrosity become a part of their everyday life? One that they walk by without giving it a second thought? Is this my grave? Forever?

Frantic. Panic.

“God?” I cried with a broken voice.

“Yes my child.”

“I need you! I am trapped within this prison that I have built. I cannot see the way out.”

“What have you done my child?”

“I focused on the pain.I lost my focus on Life.”

“Why have you done this my child?”

“Because I no longer wanted to hurt. I no longer wanted to be a part of it anymore. I wanted to escape. But now I am enshrouded within the same pain that I tried to escape. I am afraid. I can no longer see the Light.”

“What would you like for me to do my child?”

“Save me…”

There was a noise. I could not distinguish what it was or where it came from. Then I heard another. And another. It sounded as though something had fallen. Somewhere. Then my eyes spotted a faint light. It grew brighter with each successive noise. My eyes strained to see. Once I could focus I had caught a glimpse of another set of eyes staring into my own. “Hello?” the voice asked in wonder. “Are you okay?”

“I… I think so. I don’t know really.”

“We have been trying to reach you. We were watching you build this wall. We were amazed by your dedication. But then we tried to stop you once it had gotten too high. We were shouting. Did you not hear us?”

“I heard you. I heard voices. I just thought that…”

“That is not important. We will get you out of here.”

The Light grew brighter. Fresh air surrounded me, killing the stale suffocation. The voices grew louder and in number. There were so many people. People that I knew. Loved ones. Friends. Even complete strangers. Smiling. Embracing me.

“Brother,” one of them had said. “We’ve been praying for you…”

My hands are dry. They are cracked. Bleeding. Calloused. Dirty. 

But they will be cleansed. They will heal.

“Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed; Save me, and I shall be saved, For You are my praise.”

-The Prophet Jeremiah