When I moved into Calm Rapids I had no plans for, no idea where, the direction my life would head from there. I knew nothing of the friends I would make, the obsession that would come to consume my life or the pain that I would cause so many. I entered Calm Rapids with very little knowledge of the rules of Heaven and Hell or those who defy them. I simply arrived seeking a fresh beginning and I couldn't even have that.
It was only a few days after my arrival into Calm rapids. I laid naked on top of a second hand mattress with tears running from my eyes. I made the conclusion. I had failed to outrun the pain.
The physical hurt I had long since accepted was going nowhere. The burning pain that plagued my right foot was as a part of my being as the heart beating frantically in my chest. It was the nightmares and sadness that I sought refuge from.
I had fled my family and ran a thousand miles from home. Seeking sanctuary through distance to no avail. I had dreamt of rising from bed without my volition watching passively as my body took up my pocket knife from the bedside table and made its way outside my apartment.
I screamed silently trapped in my head as my body walked the shared hallway gently trying each doorknob. Searching for one left unlocked. I woke as one hand successfully opened a neighbor's door and the other raised its knife. I was already crying when I woke up.
I made the difficult decision to get out of bed and dragged myself to the bathroom. A moment's relief later I found myself before the bathroom sink and its terrible mirror.
I didn't want to look at myself this morning. Seeing the red in my eyes and the wet streaks left from my tears would make them more real than they were before. Physical evidence of an awful dream.
I decided brushing my tooth would take too much effort this morning but convinced myself to gargle some mouthwash. The alcohol burn gave me something else to hate besides myself.
This would be the first of many mornings I'd spend on my couch staring into space. A ritual I came to practice almost like meditation. Almost because instead of focusing on the present I used this time to plan ahead. I'd create elaborate plans to better my life. Complex schemes built from promises from myself. I'd spend the rest of the day breaking these promises.
Eventually this habit drove me to madness or at least the edge of it and I decided to leave my home for some reason other than survival. I think it took two months for the patterns to bring me to this desperation.
I knew no one wanted to see me so I dressed plain to avoid standing out. Even then I worried obsessively about the space I took up. I'd go to get food and take a table for two just for me and panic over how greedy I must come off as.
I began walking as a way to escape. As long as I was moving I didn't need to think about my life or my mistakes. Eventually this practice led me outside of a small shop in the middle of nowhere near the edge of town. An old man sat outside smoking a pipe.
"Your spirit is restless isn't it young man?"
"What?" The man sat his pipe down and looked up at me.
"You can't sleep at night. You dream of tragedy without fail."
"Yeah I-"
"Don't talk. Come inside."
The man waved me into his store. The door rang a small bell as he pushed it open. The building smelled both of the old books that cluttered the shelves and of cigarettes. He walked me to a small couple chairs and told me to take a seat before pulling the other chair across from me and sitting down himself.
"I know a sad man when I see one. This world is so full of people bowed over from the weight of the regret they carry with them at all times. I was one of these people. Are you one of these people?" As he spoke he gestured at his chest before pointing his finger at me. I was enthralled, and maybe it was only because this was my first meaningful human interaction in months but I believed every word this man said to me
"Yeah, I think I am." The old man nodded sagely and smiled at me. I smiled too.
"I know how to help you let go, but first tell me your name. Mine was Ted short for Theodore but I go by Bear now as it makes me smile to hear."
"My name is Eric."
"Eric, you frowned when you said it. Does your name bring you pain?"
"Just unpleasant memories."
"Then you need not use it, at least for now, let the name be free of its association to your guilt. Choose something new."
"I wouldn't know where to begin." Bear laughed at my hesitation and reached for my hand. I let him take it.
"Names are simply words we call ourselves. Let them have only the power you give them. Choose a word, it need not be forever, just for now." I thought for a while before I spoke again.
"Call me Evening, please."
"Evening, peaceful, a time of rest. Does it make you smile Evening?" I was indeed smiling even as my eyes filled with tears. I nodded my head fiercely. Bear laughed and squeezed my hand.
"Good! Then let us talk."













