by Miriam Bell » Tue Aug 14, 2018 5:21 pm
It's like diving into ice water. Seeing, feeling what Will has lost hurts in such an almost exquisitely familiar way. And worse, for just a moment all those memories are hers. A lifetime and more of friends, family, being welcomed and loved. And it hurts because it is gone. Ripped away past an ephemeral barrier, out of reach. It's overwhelming and heartbreaking and resplendent and for maybe the first time Miriam realizes that if there was no grief, no pain in it's absence then none of it would hold any meaning. In the real world her fingers curl against the window, fingernails scraping against reinforced plexiglass, lips pressed into a thin line and eyes welling with tears. "We can't have the happiness of yesterday without the pain of today. That's the deal..." she whispers.
And just like that she knows what happened. Why she cannot tear Melpomene from Will's mind and why burying it all left Will vacuous and broken, seeking refuge in something that, in his mind, had absolute control. Why the pain feels so strong it's almost unbearable at times. How often had she wished she could just forget about Norma, be free of the shadow cast over her soul. She carried her own little box in her mind only she knew exactly what it held and now there's no holding it closed anymore and the memories of that tiny, impossibly small flicker of light fading into the darkness spills forth. She'd been so scared, so hurt, so lost until she'd simply been no more. But in that little flame flickered so much more...
Miriam boosting her little sister onto the counter to help her get to the cupboard with the Crunchie bars.
Sitting in front of the telly, hugging Norma so she doesn't get too scared of the aliens chasing the Doctor around.
Taking her to the playground and teaching her how to make a whirlybird so she doesn't notice the third strange man visiting their mum that day.
Standing on her tip-toes to make breakfast sausage and scrambled eggs for her sister.
All those things, buried because they hurt too much to remember, yet she's stronger with them. A candle in the dark that she'd needed for so long. It burns and it hurts but it shines all the same and as it does she pulls and she lifts all of Will's memories up from the clay. And Melpomene's 'throne' remains even as large sugar crystals sprout all over her until she's encased but not forgotten, her own kind of monument in a way. And slowly Miriam sinks down to her knees, hand trailing on the window of Will's cell as her forehead comes to a rest against it, tears falling down past the curtain of her hair.