This assignment was to find a place where all of the different parts of me could come together, sadly the protector is against the collaboration.

Dock

We can all meet at my beautiful lake on a dock, hidden in between trees on all sides. A large snow-covered mountain rising to the sky above the taiga. The water is fed into the lake from an underground spring, and it leaves the lake over a Beaver Dam and under the road to another beautiful lake. Splintering off from the lake is a shallow lagoon where the loon’s nest and sing. The lake is just deep enough so as you near the center you cannot see the bottom. It is a dark void filled with any lake monster the imagination can dream up.

The water’s surface shimmers in the sun as you hear the gentle ebb and flow of the water against the wooden dock. The sun is enough to get you to the point of being ready to take a cooling dive off the dock, the waters is just warm enough to keep swimming in.
The dock is floating 20 feet into the lake, bridged to the land by a makeshift wooden path leading to the gravel and dirt of the shore. I am sitting on this dock alone in the sun. I am alone but not lonely. I can feel my missing pieces out there hiding in the trees. Alone but not lonely, never lonely, only missing pieces.

They try to come out sometimes, my pieces, but they can’t. As soon as a piece is about to step out of the trees into my view a coal black sky rolls in. A giant engulfing cloud that shrouds the very sun, sucking out all the heat and leaving my skin bump ridden. A strong wind begins to blow causing turmoil chaos on the no longer serine surface of the lake. The rain begins to pour down from the clouds upon me and all my pieces. The protector of us scaring and sending my pieces back into the woods. Only protected by the vegetation, pairs of eyes peaking from behind trees. I can see it, surfacing at the core of my once calming lake, that protector of me rising, full of malice and menace ever so slowly out of the water. His red eyes locked on mine. A warning to me of “NO!” do not meddle where I am not allowed, a hint of violence lingering in his eyes. I can feel the breath from his mouth. Four tentacles with suckers that he latches on to the side of my head, his teeth filled maw over my ear. His name is whisper, and he fills my mind up with his warnings, rules and whispers. I stop trying to call and pull on my tangle of pieces. He whispers one last warning and retreats into the murky waters from whence he came. The darkness and rain following his presence. And I am alone but never lonely.