The sun shines down on my skin, warming every inch of my being. This warmth was special, it didn’t feel artificial. I took a moment, to just stand there in the warm embrace of the sun. Let it spread its light throughout every fiber of my being.
The grass at my feet flowed gently with the breeze. Tickling my ears with the soft sound of nature. I began running, allowing the wind to carry me through the fields. I felt so light, the air at my back pushing me forwards.
Clouds danced high above me, and I danced with them. Spinning and twirling every which way. In this moment I can be free, unbound to the rules that dictate my life. In this moment, I can simply exist.
A dark void. Then suddenly, blinding white. As the light dimmed, I began to take in my new surroundings.
A towering city scape, the buildings impossibly tall. Roads going for miles in each directions, skyscrapers walling in every inch of the street. Completely devoid of cars, people, and any other sign of humanity. Just me and the endlessness of this concrete jungle.
But the star of the show would be soon to arrive, I was familiar enough with circumstances like this one. In the next few moments, a poor innocent dreamer would come plummeting into view, speeding towards the hard asphalt at my feet.
My job was easy enough, I simply had to wake the person before impact. They’d experience quite a start in the waking world, but they’d be unharmed. Hyped up on adrenaline and a bit sweaty, but unharmed.
I scanned the sky, looking for any signs of movement, before my vision panned to the ground around me. Maybe this wasn’t the type of dream I thought it was, maybe the dreamer will just be going for a stroll through the unending rows of buildings.
A figure makes itself known. Standing, unmoving a distance down one of the roads. It’s only identifiable feature being it’s eyes. It stares at me, as if it were watching me, as if it could see me.
I begin to move closer, maybe this is tonight’s subject. It continues watching me, staring straight at me as I move. Whatever it is shouldn’t be able to see me, I shouldn’t be perceivable, simply here to do my job.
As I approach, it whispers in my direction. “Watch out”. It sounds almost like it was taunting me.
It was then that another sound made itself known to me. A sickening CRACK echoed through the empty streets.
I slowly turn around to see a figure, lying motionless on the pavement behind me.
The expanse around me disappears.
Every day seems the same, An endless monotony, The sun rises, The sun sets.
In the time between, Nothing ever changes, Things may feel different, But it’s all the same.
Breaking the cycle is hard, Most people would rather not, People like consistency, People like knowing what comes next.
But life doesn’t have to be consistent, It can be wild and free, Every day doesn’t have to be the same, But only if you want it to be.
It’s hard to change your own life, But it’s always worth it in the end, If you find monotony boring, Then a free life seems worth it to me.
Gray from horizon to horizon. A stone ground peppered with cracks and with dust. The harsh grays of the floor seeming to fight the bright hopeful blues of the sky right above. The ground exists in parallel to the sky. Clumps of rocks forming crude imitations of the clouds high above. Reflections in puddles hoping to capture even a fraction of the light of the bright, burning sun.
The sky lets it’s hope fight the ground. Streaks of light pushing through the cracks. Pulling plants from the soft soil below, helping them grow past the hard rock that lines the floor. Rain, however uncommon, exists to give these plants the nutrients they require. The plants wait happily for every storm. The concrete is incapable of changing, the plants continue to grow.
Night brings about certain feelings, Feelings of peace and of calm, Calm as the sea fore a storm, Storm as a term for the day.
Day is a restless time, Time which is spent being busy, Busy with work and with life, Life which never stops moving.
Moving as the sun across the sky, Sky is both light and dark, Dark in the time of the night, Night is when life can rest.
Rest in the peace and the quiet, Quiet as the night crickets chirp, Chirp as the birds in the morning, Morning when the night comes to rest.
I awoke with a start, out of the warm embrace of my sleeping bag into the cold darkness of the night. The gentle fabric of my shirt sticking to the sweat dripping down by back.
A voice called out from the night, “Hey hon, you feeling alright? You were freaking out again.”
“Yea, I-I’m sorry, I’m okay. I didn’t wake you up, did I?” I responded sheepishly.
“Oh, please don’t worry about that, I hadn’t fallen asleep yet. Now are you doing alright? What’s been goin on?” The voice called back.
“It’s just that dream again, I can’t stop having it. It’s so… so vivid, it feels so real.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Thank you, but not right now, let’s just try and get some rest.”
“Alright, well I’m always here to talk if you need me.”
“Thank you, it really means the world. You too.”
“Goodnight hon, I hope you sleep well.”
“Goodnight, you too” I responded as I laid back down, into the warm confines of my sleeping bag.
The morning came without any more difficulties, the sun shining brightly upon the stretch of land we’d found ourselves on. A cool breeze rustled through the leaves of the trees we settled between for the night. As we emerged from our slumber, so do did the animals that called this landscape home.
Branches snapped as little critters scampered about, bird calls signaled that it was indeed morning, and the low hum of insects were an ever-present unpleasantry.
We prepared for the long day ahead of us, our equipment fitting snugly in the bags we had brought with us.
We ventured deeper into the environment, a dense canopy of leaves allowing only a select few sunbeams to reach our skin. But the cover was short lived, as the shrubbery began to thin out.
The view we found ourselves before was extravagant, a sea of green stretching out beneath our feet. The wind rushing through our hair, it both felt and looked as if we were on top of the world. The forest continued some hundred feet below us, but for just a little bit we were above it all. Our stretch of the woods had brought us to the very peak of a cliff side.
We sat ourselves down and decided to take in the view, a view I should’ve recognized much sooner. My heart pounded against my chest, as if it were trying to break through my rib cage.
“Get back!” I shouted as I attempted to pick myself up, off the ground I had previously felt so attached to.
“What? Why?” My partner responded, confused as to the sudden panic present in my voice.
“Just move!” I screamed, desperately willing them to listen.
“Ok ok, are you alright?” They responded as they too stood up from the seat.
“This is where… this is the same place… this is what I’ve seen in my dreams… the bad ones.”
“What does that mean? Is something going to happen? I won’t let anything hurt you, I promise.”
A warm hand took mine, it felt safe. I wanted to believe the words I was being fed, I wanted them to be true more than anything.
“I’m sorry, I should have told you, I should have recognized this sooner, I should have realized.” But as I said that, a sickening series of cracks rang throughout the open air.
The ground began to crumble away, the sediment wasn’t as solid as it had initially appeared, the sudden movements that had taken place moments prior seemed to be too much for it to handle, and it gave out.
“I’m sorry, I thought I had more time, I didn’t think it would happen yet. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
The sweat that coated my body drove a gap between our hands. The only thing keeping me connected to live, the only thing keeping me connected to them. But I was slipping, my feet dangling over the forest we had been marveling at.
I looked deep into their eyes. I wanted to say more, I wanted to tell them to keep going, that everything was going to be fine, but in my last moments, before finally letting go, all I could do was muster the softest smile I could, and say,
“I’m so sorry, I knew all along that this was how it would end.”
A young boy ventures deep into a frozen forest. Snow and ice piled up against the endless sea of trees. The blues and greens of the needles covering the deep dark expanse of the night sky above. The ground, a sheet of fresh white, illuminated only by what little amount of moonlight manages to seep through.
The boy’s destination is a small clearing in the middle of the wood, where the sky opens up to reveal the vast expanse above. The trees, which seemed so oppressive, give way to this open space, as if a wall were preventing them from growing any farther.
The sound of footsteps in freshly fallen snow echo throughout the clearing as the boy makes his way to the center. His target is a small building. The roof slopes upwards, pointing towards the vast abyss above. The wooden floorboards creak and groan as the boy makes his way up the small set of stairs in front of the building’s door.
He sits down on the top stair, right before the entryway to the shrine. The night grows silent as he settles down, the aged wood beneath him quieting as he gets into place. He sits, patiently waiting for the night’s entertainment to begin.
The moon travels higher and higher into the sky, the space around it barren, devoid of it’s usual celestial partners. Eventually it reaches the apex of it’s journey, and something begins to change.
The forest around the boy begins to grow brighter as minuscule balls of light emerge from behind the trees. They begin to float higher and higher, making their way into the night sky.
One slowly approaches the boy. Stopping once it reaches him. He leans towards it, allowing it to shine it’s light over every part of his face. His hands begin to move up to the ball, almost as if they were moving on their own. He cups the light in his hands, and begins to whisper something to it.
Upon listening to his wish, the light begins to ascend into the sky, just as it’s piers had done moments prior. It floats higher and higher, eventually finding it’s place next to the moon.
The sky is full of newborn stars. The boy’s wish is safe among them.
When you don’t have anything else, darkness is quick to become your friend. Devoid of all of my senses, I had no idea just how large, or how small the room I’d found myself in was. My only assurance that I still even existed being the feeling of my feet on the floor, nothing to hear, nothing to smell, nothing to see. I couldn’t even see my own hand in front of my face if I wanted to.
I tried walking, tried finding anything in this place that could help me even a little bit, but I couldn’t even find where this room ended, let alone supplies of any kind. With nothing to entertain myself, and no way to track the time, every passing second feels like an eternity.
Hopelessness sets in rather quickly. This place, whatever it is, will be my tomb. But with that realization comes something else. A feeling of melancholy, contentment maybe. When you live in darkness, when you live devoid of any outside sensations, the only difference between life and death is the feeling of the ground beneath your feet. That thought is freeing.
It’s easier to tell someone the truth when you can’t see their face. The sorrow in their eyes, the disappointment on their lips. Every subtle, subconscious change in their features conveying all of their hidden emotions.
We all find ways to avoid the resulting confrontation. Any way to escape falling into their looming, piercing gaze. Staring at their feet, or looking to the wall just behind them.
The truth hurts people, and they make it known. Lies are much easier to digest. They’re constructed specifically to make people happy.
The truth is unforgiving, it doesn’t care how it may effect people. For people who don’t want to cause anyone any pain, It’s easier to tell someone the truth, when you can’t see their face.
