The Girl and the Bitter Pill

We find the girl walking through the woods, somewhat lost, though she had traveled this path many times. Too many times, as far as she was concerned. The path had changed through the years because each person who took the path left their own mark.

This particular day, the path seemed smaller, nearly claustrophobic, though the girl was not prone to claustrophobia. It was a little darker, a little narrower, not as easily navigable as in times past. Oh, she was sure she knew the way, but she felt lost, just the same.

Today, she did not want to follow the path, not that she liked this path any other day, either. She knew it was necessary. The brambles poked at her ankles, little tiny pricks of pain with each step she took. Errant branches seemed to grab at her, tiny pebbles skittered under her feet, making her footing unstable.

Still, she forged on, knowing it was required that she take this path. She found a small bit of solace knowing she would be joined by her family soon, once they traveled their own paths to get to their mutual destination.

She tried to think about how wonderful it would be to see her family, how they always laughed together. How their hugs were so powerful that they sometimes smothered her, but in a good way.

Her mind wandered back to the times before she had to walk this path. The happier times, the fun times. She tried not to think of the time immediately before her journey, but she kept replaying it in her mind's eye over and over.

The cold visitor who always arrived with the bitter pill for her to swallow. Many times, she thought, “I just won't swallow it. I'll pretend to swallow it, but spit it out later. That way, it won't be real”. Every single time that she tried this, somehow the visitor sensed her thoughts and commanded her without words to swallow that pill.

This time, the pill was more bitter, more acidic, more unbearable. By far, it was the worst pill she'd had to swallow yet. Swallow the pill, take the path. It was a cadence she'd known for a very long time, but it never got easier. It was inevitable, to walk this path.

The brambles kept pricking at her ankles, the branches kept grabbing at her, the pebbles kept skittering, and the hurt kept coming. The bitterness of the pill had not yet subsided, and she knew it would be a very long time before it did.