“Why does the Past hold me back?” I ask as I search in my heart rummaging for answers. I study the faces of Past, Present, and Future in hopes that they would speak up. They stay silent. I wait anxiously. With her head down, the Future mumbles something under her breath. I turn my head towards her.
I beg quietly, “Speak up, please.”
“The answers you’re looking for are beyond our knowledge.” Future looks up and turns to the Past.
“You are not who I am.” Past looks me straight in the eyes, “I’m not the one holding you back.”
I look away to stop my lips from quivering. I try to hold back from crying, but it was too much. I face them again with my tears stained cheeks. The Present gazes at me sympathetically. She moves from where she was and reaches for my hands. I tremble from heartbrokenness. She tenderly plants her right hand on my left cheek then traces my dried up tears.
“Help me.” I swallow the pain.
“You can’t find the answers here,” she plainly states.
I glare at her and spit at her words. In my frustration, I seize the Past. I gather her arms violently piercing her skin with my fingernails. The Future suddenly stands in shock, but the Present blocks her off, a hand to her chest. She purses her lips as if to say she can’t do anything about it. As I bind the Past impatiently, I turn towards the Present and the Future.
“I once was her! Someone I didn’t want to be,” I yell furiously, “so I chained her to leave me be.”
The Past pathetically claims confidently, “One day, you will set me free.”
But I replied, “Maybe. Once I’ve forgiven me.”