The Puzzle Box

It wasn’t long after my mom had a heart attack that everything started falling apart. Like the leaves on a tree whither and fade away, my life was starting to explode. It was like a constant ticking was timing me until I finally just left. I should have done it ages ago. I was like a flower stuck in the winter, frosting over. Like a wave left in droplets of water while the rest of the lake is ice. Like the star left hanging in the daylight for everyone to see. I don’t belong. I never did. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. All I needed was an excuse to leave. That’s why I’m glad my mom had a heart attack. Im glad she’s in the hospital. I’m glad my best friend ditched me for the hot guy she’s been obsessing about for the past year. Im glad the girls in my grade think I’m the weird kid. I’m glad my dad took a job across the world. I’m glad my sister reads her books and pays no attention to me. I’m glad. It all was like a puzzle, piece by piece being thrown back into the box. But where does a puzzle really belong? In the box, where it was created, where it was always bound to be. And that’s why I left. I ran. I’m a lost piece, trying to find my box. But I can almost find it. I can almost see it. My feet have almost got me to the place I belong. I look down towards them, and underneath them are a tall bridge over a large body of water. It’s waves are calm like my still heartbeat. I’m almost home. Suddenly my feet leave the ground of the bridge and I’m flying. Getting closer and closer to then box. Falling like a leaf falls to the ground, with the rest of the leaves from its tree. I hit the water with a crash and my eyes close and my vision is complete and utter darkness. That’s when the lid of my box was shut, and I fell unconscious. That’s when I finally found home. Everything fell apart right into its place. It’s perfect.

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