03: Stop Overthinking

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Dedicated to IamcrazybutIknowit for her immense support and overall awesomeness, as well as the picture on the new cover. :D

***

Should I jump down and take a closer look? Or would it be safer to pretend as if that never happened? Is there even anything to be afraid of in a universe that is under your own control?

Actually, I think that just magnifies the level of your fear, knowing that you're in a universe filled with all of your own mistakes. But I shouldn't worry; there hasn't been enough time for me to make mistakes. Or has there? Maybe, by parting the clouds, I have upset a delicate balance.

"Stop overthinking, Cleo. You only have time to act."

The man's voice. I honestly don't know what to think of it anymore at this point, but I take his advice to heart and jump.

The rush is back. It spreads throughout my whole body like the wings of a bird, liberating me even further. This time, it doesn't take me long to land, and I feel like I'm standing on the clouds again. But I'm not.

The train tracks are right in front of me, the message still staring back without mercy. I bend down to touch it, and the red ink smears onto my fingers. I bring it to my nose. The smell of blood is strong. Too strong. I feel dizzy for a moment.

I wipe my finger on my dress, the stain standing out on the white fabric as if it's mocking me. It seems to say that in all of the Nothingness, the one thing you will find is bloodshed.

How pleasant.

I walk alongside the tracks, my bare feet leaving footprints in what seems to be mud. I don't want to change anything yet. I want to see what this universe beginning looks like. Maybe it will give me clues to my past, if it even exists.

The mud squishes between my toes. Nothing else seems to be here besides the one everlasting train track. It twists and turns, but it doesn't seem to be leading anywhere.

Until I see it. A train station, finally. Although there is no train, I still feel like I've accomplished something after what has seem like an eternity of just walking. Like I mentioned, the station is empty. It appears to have evaporated out of nowhere, and an eerie blue mist surrounds it as if an ocean had just washed over it and left a bit of its mystery.

Suddenly, I get a feeling that this wasn't here before me. I soon realize that this was all my doing albeit subconscious. I don't know how I figured that out, but I feel utterly dissapointed. I sit down on one of the benches.

One.

Two.

Three.

A suitcase appears at me feet. Odd, I don't remember ever wanting the suitcase. Sure, I remember the action of making it appear, but it didn't seem like it was me who was doing it. This is incomprehensible. Instead of over thinking, I am under-thinking. I can do anything except clear my mind. I am invincible until it comes to sorting out my thoughts that seem to have scattered with the nonexistent wind.

My situation is almost comical. I'm sitting at a train station, ready to depart with my suitcase, seemingly. Waiting for a train that will only come if I create it. Should I?

One.

Two.

Three.

Instantly after, the train comes speeding down the tracks and stops right in front of me. I don't remember ever making the decision to command it to come. It's as if someone else is controlling me.

I don't think, as the man told me not to, and a board the train with my suitcase. I slide a large door open and close it behind me and take my seat. The chair is velvet, and there is an optimum amount of space for my belongings. This is a first class train.

Adrian (The Write Awards 2013)Where stories live. Discover now