Doves sharing stories while swinging on the light poles, a man and woman with white hair holding hands enjoying night life, the reflection of a half eaten moon illuminating the park, so many things for me to enjoy. Instead, I was trapped in a room where the only window there was, had cell bars, the door had a lock on the outside, the walls were all scribbled over, the bed occupied half the room, and the rusted trey on the floor was empty.
As if that weren't enough, I had to share it with a very unimportant and ignorant roommate: solitude. I could've written a 300 page book with what my own mind had taught me the past 4 months. But I didn't, I was too busy making myself the same question every morning, why me?
Once again, I had lost myself in my own mind, approaching the end of the tunnel, conflicted, wondering if I really craved freeing myself from the life I was trapped in.
And back to reality. My reflection stared coldly at my silhouette, analyzing my worn out body: sitting slouched on my bedroom floor. There was no escape, as soon as I lifted my gaze, everything I could see was the body my soul was living in. In 'peace' at last, I turned my head slowly, my straight, brown hair fell instantly off my shoulders and my half opened eyes focused themselves on a black matte painted pistol. Its handle stuck out of a dark blue sack covered in patches. I meticulously used my index finger and thumb to pick the handle like a claw machine. Ignoring the intense trembling of my bony arm I easily slid the fingertips of my other hand over its barrel, feeling its perfect construction. Confidently, I closed my eyes and detected how the smell of a brand new car invaded my cage. Panic struck through my veins as soon as I opened my eyes and noticed my hand grabbing the weapon firmly. I owned the power of a God: being able to take someone else's life. In spite of it, that was not what I wished to do, no. Not yet. Just then, I numbly lifted the gun and pointed at the mirror. A broken target, no way I could fail. As the grip on the weapon tightened, a smile grew from ear to ear on my face as my brain coldly instructed my finger to pull the trigger. The doves were soon far away from seen.
YOU ARE READING
a walk through memories
Krótkie OpowiadaniaHailey Cooper's past remains a mystery even as she revisits memories of those responsible for her actions, one by one. She is troubled but determined to pay one last visit to those who ever did her wrong, having accepted some time ago that even if s...
