o you ever feel as if your life swings back and forward, constantly? Very high ups, swing like a pendulum into down lows. So, they felt, swinging back and forth. Lately life felt like it was looking for the lowest low. Digging into the pit to make it deeper. But maybe if you dig deep enough, you’ll find a diamond? Or you’ll hit a pipe and drown.
They were surrounded by mundane colours of abandoned happiness, happiness scrapping to the surface. A single light, a beacon, tried to brighten the abandoned playground. But the night kept its blue arms tight around Claremorris, sweeping every bit of colour aside. But if we had constant light, we’d start taking it for granted. We would be bored of it. The swing felt cool in their hands, invading their skin making their hands cold. Numb. They could almost taste winter, while taking deep breaths to push themselves further, higher. Maybe they could launch themselves into the air, and fly away like a bird. Migrate to a different country. A country they would belong in. But suddenly, they stopped. The swing slowly calmed down and they stared at the floor. The wind sang its best opera in their ear and the swing beside them jingled along. It all seemed so chaotically peaceful.
“I don’t belong here.”
Their neck slowly snapped up, to see a white face with two brown eyes decorating the face. Long dark eye bags struck by motherhood loomed under her eyes.
“I don’t belong here.” What did she want? Was she drunk? She stood still, her ripped red dress looked dull in the shadows of the playground. “I don’t belong here.” Tears started to stream down her face. “I don’t belong here.” She whispers, over and over. The whisper sounded so loud in their head. She grabbed their shoulders. “I don’t belong here.” She started shaking. “I don’t belong here.” She started shaking them. “I don’t belong here!”. They sat there paralysed, but the women’s face started to get nearer them. They pushed her away, and started running. Running through the mundane colours to the road. They didn’t turn back. They reached a silver gate, and quickly started climbing over it. Why do rich people close their parks? But they were too busy running to answer their own question. They dodged arms of the trees, and looked for their hole. Their hole that was always there for them. They jumped into the hole and rested in the bushes. They have a nice front row view of the lake. The water was so much darker then the sky. Stars shine and decorate the sky, while the water only reflected the stars, imitating them. The more they looked at the stars, the more they started to resemble eyes. Eyes staring back at them, unblinking. They count every step they took, they write down every word they thought. Thoughts to use against them. They can’t escape the eyes. They knew all of their secrets. All of their wants. All of their flaws. Only they knew that they were out of place. Did the stars see the versions of them in different universes as well? Or were their infinite versions of stars in different worlds?
“It’s hard to belong anywhere, if I’m useless.”
They turned around to meet another pale face, with grey diamonds twinkling in their skull. A skull poorly covered by skin, skin that was fully scraped off their hands. Their hands bleeding with hard work to keep his family alive.
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“It’s hard to belong anywhere, if I’m useless.”
His ripped clothing were duller than the water itself. He looked past them, and muttered the words to himself. He was calm. Too calm. The calm you see on a corpse. What’s wrong with people today. Are they all drunk? Are they looking for victims? Are they, alive? Did he know the woman from before?
“It’s hard to belong anywhere, if I’m useless.”
He slowly made his way towards them, but he didn’t look at them. His eyes twinkled like the stars. They back away to not be shook again, but they quickly met with the edge of the lake. The wind made the waves beg them to fall into their cold arms. To hug them for eternity. The man kept walking forward. But his arm stayed at his sides. He walked in straight line. They quickly jumped out of the way and started looking for safety in the bushes, but he didn’t look at them. He just walked forward. To the edge.
“It’s hard to belong, if I’m useless.”
The lake gave him a hug. Flight is the easier reaction to help, so they ran away. They followed the path. Running in the wind feels so freeing. Freeing until you feel that the wind only cares for the place it’s going, not where they went. After a while they started to struggle to run against it. Once they got to a wooden bridge, they started to walk. They walked on the planks with hollow steps. Just the strips of wood separated them from the void below them. Maybe it wouldn’t make a difference, even if they fell in. Maybe they wood be reincarnated into something new. Maybe they would be reincarnated back into themselves, to relive their life in a different dimension. Maybe in other dimensions, they are happy. And they have to be miserable, for the other versions of them would be happy. Maybe their dreams of living in their blood land is just insight of how alternate versions of themselves live. They look at the sky. What are they thinking? Their life isn’t that bad. Is it selfish to wish to be in a different reality? Can one only be happy, if they cut selfishness out their mind? But how does one build a bridge in your mind to walk over the selfish thoughts.
“I’m ungrateful for my existence if I think I’m useless.”
They turn to see emeralds looking back. They looked as if they wanted to pierce their head with her eyes. Her fists were clasped so tight her nails started to dig into get palms. If hate was a person, they have found her.
“I’m ungrateful for my existence if I think I’m useless.”
Her clothes were blue, with only splotches of red here and there. The splotches decorated her face. In each of her hands was a photo, one half with her face, and the other half with their face. She started running at them.
“I’m ungrateful for my existence if I think I’m useless.”
But they didn’t run. Why oh why did their feet not move. They were nailed to the planks. She ran at them, her face turned fully red. Something snapped in their mind and they started running. But where will the run? To the old bridge? How many bridges can a park have? Heavy steps ran after theirs. All they can do is run.
“I’m ungrateful for my existence if I think I’m useless.”
They had two paths infront of them, they were going left but their they met the woman.
“I don’t belong here.”
They ran right, but there they saw the man.
“It’s hard to belong, if I’m useless.”
They turn around, and the girl still ran at them.
“I’m ungrateful for my existence if I think I’m useless.”
So they could either jump, climb, or dig. They went to dig. Dig a hole. Deep in the mud. Maybe if they dug far enough they will get to Wonderland. Maybe they’ll dig into a colony of underground creatures. Maybe they’ll dig into a new reality. They dug as fast as they could. They felt cold arms grab them. Shake them. Choke them. They dug. Maybe they’ll find a diamond. Maybe they’ll hit a pipe. But the arms couldn’t let that happen. They lifted them up and threw them into the arms of the void.
