Here is an old story I wrote nearly a year ago. I think i've come a long way since then.
I can still picture it clearly. She's running through the streets, crying. In so much pain, all she can do it scream, trying to let it out. Nobody looks up. She runs farther. Her body is dirty, her face covered in blood and dirt; her hair a mess of wet curls from the down poor of rain. Worse than before, there isn't even anybody around anymore. Everyone has retired to their perfect homes, curled up in their beds quietly reading their baby's favorite story as they dose off into a better place.
She is running no where so fast the world is spinning, like the balance of life has been knocked unsconcious. She stops. Abruptly, dropping to her worn knees. Her words become silent. Everyone stops, listening for her cry for help. Her face...something unforgettable. Her cheeks were rosy and muddy, lips trembling with fear and regret, but her eyes. Those eyes. Looking into them made my life flash forward, seeing how worthless i could become. Those eyes were warning me. "Don't turn out like me. There is another way..." They made me see, see her will for happiness.
Jesus, she was shaking. Just kneeling there, all on her own. Her voice so weak that as much as we strained to hear her, the task was impossible. Naturally, everyone moved on...but not her. She stood up, walked back home. If you could have read her, those eyes would have told you that we failed the last test.
Moments later, I awoke from my bed, wrapped up in my warm blankets. Oh, It was a dream...just a dream...
It was early in the morning, a time that I rarely experienced. I walked outside, leash of my dog in hand...we were walking brisk-fully down the street. I look both ways at the corner, begin to cross the cool street. The dog is lagging behind me, sniffing the world like insense...when he gets hit by a red vette. I am pale, looking with disbelief. I try to pick him up, only to discover his blood dripping onto my icy cold hands. I scream, holding my head...blood everywhere. No. This couldn't be happening.
I take off down the street, screaming up wards to who ever was listening. Pouring out my soul to who ever took such a small life so easily...I don't believe it. I won't believe it. As long as i keep running. Running away from everyone, it won't be true. It can't be true unless I let it. Hours go by before I realize it. There is no running away. Reality is always lurking in the sunlight as I hide in the shadows, just waiting for me around every bend.
"NO! I won't be like her!"
It's over. The race that had never begun is over. I dropped to my knees in surrender. I'm tired, like i've been going for days. I'm telling him I love him...the words so quiet so only he can hear. I want to cry, my mouth shaking.
If only I could have saved him. Knowing that if i'd made him keep up with me, he would still be here. Panting on my lap after a nice, long run. Why can I never be in control? Sure, I can always make sure I'm doing the "right" thing, but does anyone ever realize how little the right thing matters? Everything in our lives seem to be based more an more on the choices that other people make.
I've been going over these words in my head for endless amounts of time. The only thing that seems to comfort me is knowing that life if full of tiny inconsistencies. The world thrives on our painful mishaps and complications. The comfort being that I am not alone in this feeling. I am never alone when it comes to pain.
It's time to go home now.
It starts to rain.
Well, it's not one of the greatest, but it works. Comments are greatly appreciated.