I woke up one morning, sunlight pouring through the window, and the world felt big and bright. I was two years old now, but inside me swirled a storm I couldn't understand. Everything seemed new, but also overwhelming.
I climbed out of bed, rubbing my sleepy eyes, and spotted my favorite truck on the floor. I reached for it, but as my fingers wrapped around it, a wave of feelings crashed over me. The excitement of playing faded, replaced by an unsettling emptiness. I was all alone. No friends here to share in my joy, no siblings to play with, just me and my thoughts.
I wanted to go outside, to feel the grass beneath my feet and the sun on my face. But Mom said it was too cold, and I didn't know how to say I felt trapped inside. I wanted a snack, but it wasn't time yet. I felt the world pressing in, and with no one to share my frustrations, the small things began to feel like mountains.
In a burst of anger, I threw myself onto the floor, tears streaming down my cheeks. "Why?" I shouted, though no one could answer. It felt like nobody understood my storm, the whirlpool of feelings swirling inside me. I was supposed to be happy, but I didn't know how.
Mom rushed over, her face filled with concern. "It's okay, sweetie," she said, pulling me into her arms. But even her hug felt distant, like a warmth that couldn't quite reach the ache inside my heart. I wanted to tell her how lonely it felt to be the only one here, to not have anyone to share my toys with or my thoughts.
After the tears passed, I watched the birds outside, chirping and flying freely. I wanted to join them, to escape the walls that felt so confining. But instead, I sat in my room, surrounded by toys that seemed to mock me with their stillness. I tried to play but it felt empty. The laughter of other kids drifted through the window, and I felt a pang of longing.
As night fell, I crawled into bed, feeling the weight of the day settle over me. I wanted to be happy, to laugh and run, but instead, I felt tired and lost. I closed my eyes, hoping that tomorrow would bring something different, that maybe I wouldn't feel so alone. But deep down, I feared this storm inside me wouldn't fade, and I would be left to navigate a world that felt too big, all by myself.
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But Make it the Fucked Up Version Where the World has Gone to Shit
Aktuelle LiteraturI was lost, yearning for the warmth of my mother, but I was just a prize in a cruel world.
