Segments of Days

Segments of Days 5

Everything is prepared.

Inside my backpack, I have all the required necessities:

I have the maps of numerous cities. 

I have enough food to last several days. 

I have the picture of her wrapped in a wooden frame. 

I do not have money, but who needs that when you have willpower?

I am finally free!

The wind gently pats me as how she did in the past. 

The flowers greet me like how those people did not.

The road unwinds in a way the lady would have sought.

The journey thus so far has been one which is not yet lost. 

The journey is no longer very smooth.

The land lady would not take sympathy in my appearance.

The waitress would not accept my kind words.

The child on the road would not gift me with his light and airy ball. 

The bartender is the only one who would accept my empty promise.

I am being beating up.

The left punch thrown by the smallest creature is weak and laughable. 

The uppercut given by the largest man wounds me, but nothing hurts. 

The bartender mercilessly kicks me in the stomach, and the world then begins blur.

I believe the alluring green bottle is the reason for my pain.

I wake up to see the lady crying as she had never done before.

I find out that as a caretaker, she has failed again.

Those people are staring at me in fright; they do not want to see what I am further capable of doing.

The others who know my pain have eyes filled with admiration. 

But I stick to my word: Their reactions mean nothing to me.

I screamed.

I looked out the window to stare out at the sky, and that's when I realized a vital fact -

The single piece of metal was the media for my watch, but it was also the barrier that hindered me from touching the clouds. 

I blatantly screamed again.

I remembered why the walls and floors looked so similar:

I was back in the prison of my life, and I was very much alive.