Pain...
Anguish...
Grief...
What a way to live... I always ask myself...Are things normally like this? Or are they hallucinations that I was never meant to see?
'Why is the world so cruel? Why do I always fall on the ground and trample like a helpless servant? Where is the rich ground that I used to sleep on before?' I wonder
Every night, I would look up in the sky and I would see the stars, the moon, the galaxy...I'd lie on the rich ground and be surrounded with beautiful flowers...
Oh, the night sky...that beautiful night sky that I have always despised...those little stars and that big round moon that shined up the darkness...that also caused grief in my fragile heart...
Which also revealed those ruthless dark lies...
"She is a monster!"
"Her works are trash!"
"Just stop!"
"No one will ever read you. You're just a poem and not a novel like I"
Behind those beautiful masks hid a painful truth...
"Will the world always treat me like this? I, an innocent child, a fragile being, who tramples in the ground all the time, shall I always be treated like this?" I asked the bright round moon
I despise nature, I despise myself and I despise the world. I see flaws and resent them. I see colors and hate them. I wanted to run away from reality but I know it's not possible...
Alas, as I finish my untold journey...I find myself walking in a garden filled with different kinds of flowers. In my sight, everything is beautiful, but despite seeing the beauty of these flowers, only one attracted me.
A wilted rose with one last petal left.
It made me wonder.
"What is a wilted rose doing in such a healthy garden?"
Though, in every beauty...always hides a hidden flaw...nothing and no one is perfect...only humans define perfection... I asked myself...
"Is torture always evident wherever I go? Why must I and this rose suffer?"
The rose never did anything wrong to deserve this suffering. Even I. I then put myself in the place of the garden. I am like a garden filled with beautiful flowers but I'm flawed with a wilted rose.
A wilted rose that I admire. But this flaw...
A flaw that people despise. A flaw that people laugh at.
In the perspective of people, a garden with a wilted rose is already hideous. It's a garden that shouldn't be praised. But in my perspective, I see my flaw as beauty. A beauty that I find precious...
I smiled at the rose and looked up at the sky and embraced the cold gust of wind surrounding me.
"A garden with a dead flower is not flawed. It just shows how long that flower withstood every weather that hits the garden and how long it stood until its last petal fell. In every flaw that people have, it mustn't be hidden. This flaw might be one of the reasons why you survived or this flaw might be the one that makes you unique among people."
And with that said...my time has come to an end...as the last petal of the wilted rose falls, my disappearance has become an important part of my journey.
- Fin -
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Short Story[ 𝙲 𝙾 𝙼 𝙿 𝙻 𝙴 𝚃 𝙴 ] This book compiles all letters, poems and short stories that I have written in the past that I nearly have forgotten. These works were written from the past 2 years and these written outputs were works that I wrote in th...
