Friday, December 5, 2014

Waiting (12-5-14)

I'm standing at the open door as the sound of laughter and conversation drifts out to me. Light sifts into the darkness around and I feel a deep yearning to go in. To meet these friendly, kind people that seem to be having so much pleasure without me. To make myself known to them.
But to do so would not be the way it is in my dreams; they would run from me, instead of embracing me as one of them. They would scream and flee, as so many have done before.
The pain inside grows and my fingers slip down the door-frame. It should not be so. That someone who so aches for friends should hurt the ones I should like to know. The ones who don't deserve friends have them in abundance for a while until they are gone. I live longer than they ever shall, and yet everyone hates me. I am the Enemy in their eyes; it hurts to look upon me; their breath freezes and their eyes glaze over. The horror stops their hearts and the hatred they have against me is enough to make me stop and reel in agony.
Life isn't fair.
Neither is Death. 

I turn from the door to walk away, but I find that after taking but a few steps I can't make myself go any farther. I have to know these people. Maybe they are different. Maybe they will accept me. Maybe they can change me. Somehow.
Against my conscience, I go back towards the open doorway. Clear light floods into the opening and I reach my hand through. I don't even have to go in all the way, I just need to put my hand through... now my foot... now I poke my whole head in. Just to look. I won't hurt anyone. My conscience is screaming desperately for me to return to the darkness, where I will better the people there than in their presence, but my heart doesn't want to believe the sorrowful truth.
Tracing the footsteps of the ones who had previously come this way, I made my way to the large room where they were all gathered; as I entered, a deathly hush settled over the place. People stopped dancing and stood frozen, too afraid to whisper. The only sound was their steady breathing. They couldn't see or hear me; they could only feel my presence. The presence of Darkness. The Presence of Death.
A chill rode down my spine. I shouldn't have come. Maybe there is still time for me to leave without hurting anyone. 
Without a second thought (because those could literally kill people), I ran as fast as my feet could carry me out the door through which I came. Dropping on the steps, I started sobbing. What have I done? Will I never learn? Will I always be a nightmare?

8 comments:

  1. Woooooow. That was good. Very, very good.

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    1. Thanks so much! Your opinion means a lot. :)

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  2. Does this story's reference to dancing have anything to do with the dancing lessons you just took?

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    1. Well, I actually wrote this the afternoon before the formal (I was kind of anxious, I wasn't sure how many people I would know there). But yes, it is kind of because of the dancing lessons. ;)

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    2. That is so cool that you write when you are anxious! I tend to drink gallons of water and read intense mysterys!

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  3. So... where did you get the inspiration for this one?

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  4. I read this a long time ago, but didn't comment! This is so well written and intriguing. :)

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    1. Thank you! I love reading your Monday's Minutes entries. :)

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