The eternality in our ephemerality

Chapter 1. The sun is a coward.

Today the sun imitated my glance: it remained hidden under the foggy mist and the shameful colours the sky emended; it played hide and seek with my eyes, appearing and dispersing in spontaneous breaths but never being brave enough to emend the golden light and heat my pale skin.

No golden rays pierced my curtain and danced with the wind.

No entertainment to my eyes; my eternal struggle towards the sphere of incomprehension.

I looked up at the sky, stricken by the sun's ignorance to my fatigue and with a twisted frown I stuck my tongue out and made a grin; mumbling the words: you are a cowardly sun.

The sky continued it's silent tragedy, accentuating the fall in a swift autumn breeze: it pitted itself and to an extent reflected my exaggerated, and truly unfounded, reason of why the feeling of emptiness tortured my melancholic sight.

No light, no blue sky, no trees plucking their leaves and extending their branches to reach daylight: no hope and no colours of the eternal blue who drifted each time higher above us. The plain vanity: a dark and dull unsatisfied colour was the only one my eyes could depict; it could be grasped that my hopes were obscure and pitiless.

Today, clinging on the covers of my frosted bed set, had become the type of dreadful day where the sky represents you emotionally, where the vanity of your thoughts are so grand you allow yourself to imagine nature cares enough for you to pity yourself and create a thunderstorm.

A silent pathetic mental thunderstorm directly seen upon your eyes.

With no sunlight, nor the sun's winking awake there was no inspiration for me to get out of bed; the coldness of the wind was slowly bearable. Sluggish movements crept in my extremities, my hands clenched the bedsheets and poured them over my face: decorated by purple blobs imprinted under chestnut eyes and sucked pale cheeks.

I attempted to smile: to fool my mind and silence the tragedy; but not even my round cherry-like lips would contribute to the effort: they, like my heart, remained silenced and chained in a light pink colour.

I attempted to fool my mind again; yet, there was no possible escape for the sin I had committed: the sin of education and thirst for knowledge. My hopes rested that my dear mama would forget in her sweet mind that this was the first day back; however, my hopes for such accusations were fairly insignificant as a huge banner in the refrigerator reminded every single person living in this house that today the suffering would commence.

A frown appeared in the middle of my eyes.

I hid myself under the silky bed sheets for one last time, and despite my efforts the hoping commenced again: hoping my breath wouldn't betray my improvised hideout and hoping this day would be cheered on and made brighter.

My limbs leaped out of the comforts and raced into the boiling caress of a dawned shower; unsure whether the water was warm enough, my eyes dared stare into a foreign reflection in the mirror: a reflection my fatigue had blinded me to the thought that it was not mine.

I rushed in a flagrant bliss, attempting to be complete with what little serenity I had left; but I could not be in a fallacious caprice for long, and so: I smiled a smile far from deep, as melancholic as my heart would grant me so, and delighted my lips with the dreamy perception of meeting with my friends once again; for unfortunately, I had become satisfied with the predicted, monotonous life that belonged to my heart's pumping.

I looked up at the white vehicle that would take me to what a civilised society calls a school, but without a doubt, it is a cave of hypocritical wolves, sausaged into tiny forever 21 skirts and almost insignificant Aeropostale tops. Soaked in Victoria secret perfumes and splashed into tons of mascara: in the attempts of looking like a dashing, stinky, garbage-eating raccoon. The only similarity I have with a raccoon is the ability to distinguish between rotten food, and that which is still salvageable....anyhow, there was no escape from the rot. My capricious guts trembled.