A Short Story
By Miriam Gayize
I remember watching a video once, an odd video of the Teletubbies in black and white. I had never thought them to be evil but my skin crawled at the image and I had vowed to bury that image in the deepest graves of my mind so the happy memories of my childhood could bloom.
I vowed until I met him; the him I might write my vows to. The him with the colourful voice that sang to my soul when days felt lonelier. The him with the evil background vocalists who creeped in and stole his shine. They stole his shine that night when the stars above us looked a little brighter and a little less suffocated by all the artificial light burning away at Earth’s lungs. They stole his shine when he confessed his love for me to his best friend.
“Kill yourself. You don’t deserve her. Come with us. You don’t have to serve her.” They sang over him and he listened. Their voices were gospel to him; I saw it in his eyes that night as he sliced away at his arm.
Their voices beckoned him to finally take that step he always wanted to take but I fought with him. I said everything I could to make him listen to his own voice, his own magical voice and he came back to me.
There was another voice. A comforting voice telling me it was okay. ‘They’ll be okay, they don’t need you anymore’.” Another voice to fight. Another vocalist standing behind him as he sang to me. A voice that sounded like home after a bad storm.
A voice that wasn’t me.