learned helplessness

Books describe the scariest anger to be the kind that bubbles beneath the surface, like a dog ready to snap at a single miscalculated movement. As if the unknowable anger is what terrifies them the most.

I disagree.

There was nothing worse than the sight of Phia. Her arms bound behind her back, rope cutting into her reddening skin. She seethed in frustration, jerking against the confines. Spitting saliva and profanities, she rocked the wooden post which contained her. She groaned in frustration, her skin hot with bitter ferocity.

I couldn’t help but think how wrong they all were. And how much more terrifying it was to see someone who normally held themselves composed transform into a sea of uncontrollable rage. She lashed against the ropes before her skin burned in failure and the rope tightened against her limbs. Though the screeching didn’t stop until her chest rose and fell in the newfound helplessness. 

Tears welled up, dripping over Phia’s lashline, as she dropped to her knees, coughing. I watched as she curled up before me, powerless.

Posted 16.5.2025