She refused to die. The uncivilized heart of her beat slowly, laboriously, and refused to give up. The wild-ish blood in her veins had been diluted to a mere trace after years and lifetimes of acceptance and settling. She had the good job, the good money, the spouse, the house, the acceptable words, expressions, and behaviors. Day in and day out generic life performances to maintain the status quo had converged into a falseness of epic proportions. She had fallen for The Lie so many years ago, that she perpetuated it herself almost mindlessly every day.

Almost.

More and more lately, her blood seemed to bubble and spark beneath her skin. Her life-deafened ears began to catch whispers from a spirit that wanted to roar. Her eyes would sometimes flare and burn, seeing herself with a clarity that would temporarily freeze her in her tracks. She began to have trouble controlling these freakish moments that would break and then settle inside her. She began to fear for her sanity.

She would catch herself pacing about the house at night, drink in hand, eyes casting to every corner searching for the thing she needed to satisfy the burning hunger she felt. She would sit down and write things she didn’t even know were in her head until she read them later, appalled at the fury of the emotions expressed. She began to dream at night of mad things, precious and untamed things that left her broken hearted upon awakening. She became certain of her insanity.

She tried everything to numb the madness overtaking her. Too much everything; food, smoking, spending, sleeping, reading-anything to take her somewhere out of the reality she allowed to boil her slowly to death, one degree at a time. Nothing stopped the Wild from creeping ever closer to the hidden trip wire of transformation, but she did everything she could to maintain the Normal.

But She is here now. The Wild One. The one who will not be tamed or reduced by circumstances. She holds the trip wire in her hand with lifted chin and burning eyes. It is time to change, to live, to be. She doesn’t care about the consequences, she steps up toe to toe and stares them down until she owns them. She will yank the trip wire of transformation with a snarl, and feral eyes that see a future worth living.

And she will embrace her insanity.