Mysteries of the Dark

The torid quiet in the room was amplified by the thump of the hard outside rain against Joan's apartment windows. Joan sat by the window, looking out at the storm, thinking as choppy as the weather. A week had gone since the argument with her father, but she was still heavily grieving. The day she had not seen Alex was already long, but every bottom hour seemed to span further than the next.

On the coffee table, her phone vibrated, breaking the quiet. Joan never budged. She knew exactly what it would be but she was not prepared to talk to him still. Still seething in her gut were anger and bafflement; she would need some time to make sense of it. Time to see the reality she had found. The reality that had turned her world.

Joan didn't have to see Albert; the door creaked open. He invariably had a method of quietly coming in; rather ghostly his presence. Waiting for him to say something, she did not talk at once. Albert stayed quiet, his steps hardly audible as he neared her.

Albert said finally, his voice low, "I realize you're upset, Joan." But isolating everybody will not contribute.

Joan's eyes squinted slightly, but she still didn't not look at him. "Then, Albert, what should I do?" Act as if all is okay? Like the new information I just discovered doesn't change everything?"

Albert exhaled, his hands moving toward his back. "It's not as easy as you suppose." There is more than just your father's error at work here."

Finally, Joan turned her head to meet his eye. She motioned to the turmoil in her heart. "I've been living a lie, Albert. What exactly are you talking about? What on earth could be more complex than this?" All along, my life has been a lie. Even worse, rather—"

Stopping herself, she shook her head in astonishment. "How could I have been so blind? I'm in love with my half-brother." How on earth is that even feasible?

Albert sighed and approached, softly placing a hand on her shoulder. "Joan, you are not the only one in pain." One must confront reality, but escaping it—secluding oneself—will not fix anything. We all do it."

The words hung in the air, and Joan did not know what to say for a second. She wanted to shout, to flee, to set everything straight. Still, it couldn't be avoided. Denial could not alter the fact that the truth was here.

Her voice shaking, she whispered, "Do you think this is typical of me?" I was prepared to start a life with him, Albert. And now... everything is destroyed."

Albert's face relaxed as he said "It's not ruined, Joan." For both of you, though, recovery will take time. Because of something that happened years ago, what you feel cannot be just discarded. You owe it to yourself to fight for it."

Joan shut her eyes, a tear running down her face. This was not an opinion she wanted to hear. She wanted to close everything out. Deep inside, however , she understood Albert to be correct. The answer was not running away. No matter how difficult it was, she had to confront it.

"Don't you think I've tried to fight for it?" she snapped, her voice rising. "I've done everything I could to keep us together, but the whole world keeps telling me it's wrong." Having learned that my father has been hiding this from me—disguising the reality for years—I can no longer trust anyone. I have no idea who I am!"

With a hardening face, Albert stepped apart. "You're still Joan, the very person you have always been. Still, you must decide. This should not break you. You have to choose between letting the truth consume you or facing it."

Joan really stared at Albert for the first time in days, her breath caught in her throat. She observed the worry in his gaze, the subdued hopelessness that reflected her own. Albert was a continuous presence in the turbulence of her life; he had always been around to help her. But now, she saw that even though he had mysteries he was hiding from her.

Joan asked softly, "Why are you here, Albert?" "What are you not telling me?"

Albert winced, looking downward. There was a brief stillness between them, heavy with unexpressed ideas. Next comes his voice.

Looking up at her, his face tense, he whispered, "I can't say it yet," "But shortly you will know the truth. Just… believe me, Joan. In this, you're not by yourself."

Confusion swept over Joan; she stared at him. "What do you mean? What is the truth?"

Still, Albert was unresponsive. Pausing before exiting the space, he turned around and headed for the door.

"Lads base ready; you will see shortly," he said enigmatically.

Joan's pulse raced as she saw him go. He was discussing what. What truth did he know that she did not? And what caused it to appear the tempest outside was simply a mirror of the tempest inside her?

Joan sat down by the window as Albert slammed the door behind him, gazing out into the rain. Her head was spinning, and she felt the weight of all things upon her chest. Did she see something beyond themselves here? Was there something even bigger at play, something darker and more sinister than she could imagine?

Unaware though she was about to discover it.