The Shepherd, Elias Vale. (His story)

The Shepherd, Elias Vale. (His story)

The Shepherd Of Lost Women (Poem)

White walls surrounded me as my body had sunken into the marble floor. 

A kick to the gut, possible broken ribs, and my… my limbs felt like jelly. 

I thought for sure I would die. 

I thought for sure this was the end. 

Where was I?

That’s a question I still ask myself to this day. 

No windows, 

No noise but the sound of my screams

I’m not evil,

I’m not gifted either.

I was just an ordinary man.

A man who wanted to trust someone.

Anyone.

With this secret I had. 

What I hear,

What I do…

I heard people’s voices,

Where other people heard silence.

I could move things with my mind.

They didn’t like that…

They asked me what I heard.

I told them-

                    Nothing.

Because nothing was safer.

Before the white rooms,

Before the locked doors,

Before hands that measured 

What should have remained mine.

I told someone.

And that was the day trust became a distant, foreign thing.

There are no words for what happened next.

Only a door.

Only fluorescent light.

Only the absence of windows.

They wanted to know where the voices lived.

So I learned

To not answer.

I counted footsteps instead.

Memorized locks.

Waited for the smallest mistake.

And when the voices whispered,

Now,

I ran.

I have been running ever since..

Now I discover women who hear what I hear.

Women who dream tomorrow.

Women who know things they should not know.

Women carrying something the world would rather dissect than understand.

I take them before someone else can.

They call it kidnapping.

I call it protection.

Because I know what waits behind the white door.

I just never tell them what happened there. 

Some memories are left without names.

And some silences are the only graves we get to keep.