Fiction. Based on a True Anonymous Meeting.
I had carefully plotted my way into getting the woman to commit suicide. I created a spell–a powerful one–by which the other woman wanted to cross dimensions. All I did was tell her the truth:
“You will be able to fly to a far away land. There, you will discover…” I had painted a world that had ayahuasca…magic, spirit creatures…
The other woman wanted to go to this portal…even if it meant leaving her son behind.
“We’re in an empty and meaningless life, and it is empty and meaningless, so you create everything,” I said.
The woman thought, “I had created this hell?
This depressed the other woman. She wanted the dream. She didn’t want this reality anymore.
I used her words to spell out the fantasy. I really didn’t like her. The idea of her once having slept with the man I now shared a child with irritated her. I wanted to take that boy away from her–the boy is the one bond that still connected her to her man. And that man is my man now.
I wanted my complete family no matter what the cost. I’m the queen bitch.
I now cry in front of the entire group, “You just got to raise these children. I mean, I always complained how kids stink, they cry, they’re needy, and then they don’t even like you. Then I had four kids…now I have my fifth…but I’m learning a new way of loving. It’s too bad she passed. We were so close.”
Make it rain.
For the Hero’s Workshop
Journaling, Journalism, and the Personal Journey