Sunday, February 27, 2011

Fantasy/romance/bloody


Our destiny changes with our thought; we shall become what we wish to become, do what we wish to do, when our habitual thought corresponds with our desire.
Orison S. Marden





That was when it started to rain. It was the night of my birthday, the night I died, the night I was reborn. Funny is it not? The day I was placed on this world, also turned out to be the day I was taken out of it. I am not talking about death. No, you see, I can't die. I can't have any famous last words, any mouners, or any moments of peace. I'm always running. Hiding. Wait, I’m getting to ahead of myself. Let me tell you my story, from begginning to...well... where I am at now.

What’s your name? They all ask that. Name’s aren’t important, and I’m not just saying that because I hate my name, it’s because the faces the identities belong to is more imperative. Identities are easy to make. Names are easy to fake. I was known by many things at my high school. None of them I care too much about. But if you must know, I was born with the name of __________.

I remember when everything was at least slighy normal. I remember warm summer picnics, swimming even though it was snowing, sitting by the fire, planting my first flower, my mom... I can’t go back now right? It’s too late, it will be too awkward. No... I’m not scared of the awkwardness between my mother and me. I’m scared of the tears. The tears I know will stream down her face, even though she tries to hide it. The tears that threaten my own eyes as I watch her try to be strong for me. She doesn’t need to be strong, I could be that for her. After all, we are all we’ve got.

Mom? I’m cold. So dreadfully cold. I was standing, shaking. Weber Park, alone. Any sane person wouldn’t choose to stand in the pouring rain, watching slow drops of H2O seep into their clothing. I don't know what time it was, what date it was, or even the year. I haven't any use for those, but all I know is that it was freezing. I wish I knew more, but I didn't.

"Why...Why...Why..." I wish the rain would stop, I wish I was warm, I wish... I wish that wishing could actually work. "No...No...No..." Why won't it go away? Why can't the rain wash it away? Why can't I move? Why can't I make it go away? Why was I able to do what I did In school? What happened? I can't think! I just...I hate it all so much. "For bloody fucking hell, why!"

"Tsk, Tsk. Didn't your mother teach you that cursing is wrong? Maybe someone should teach you better. I should volunteer, don't you think?" A man... No a boy. Around the age of sixteen or so? Around my age, right? What thing that seemed to stand out was his confident way he carried himself. I've seen enough high-classed snobs, walking around like they could buy the world at my (or should I say was my) highschool. But, this stranger seemed to be wise beyond his years, he seemed to be able to control everything, he seemed to be so... "Oh, but I can't guarantee you success. You see,” He cocked his head, smiling. The world stopped. The trees no longer shook, the wind calmed, and my breathe mimicked the sound of water hitting the ground. Everything seemed to be waiting for him to finish his sentence, like whatever he would say would benefit the universe. He seemed just so... “I'm very distracting." ...Full of himself.

I sighed and suddenly I wanted him to stop smiling and waiting for a reaction. But then again, maybe I don’t. I want... I want.... What do I want? Want... I’m a child. A silly child that doesn’t know what she wants, but cries and freaks out because of it. That’s right. I don’t know what I want. That is the very reason why I should not make decisions, why I shouldn’t run away, why I shouldn’t get anything. But I still want to follow him, the childish want that I couldn’t help but hate. The want that pulled me towards him, pulled me towards something that I could just sense was very dangerous. Dangerous... Meaning I could get hurt, people could get hurt...

Call me a masochist, because I stepped towards him.
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