Burn Long, Burn Bright

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

I believe someone once said ''Follow your heart when the seas catch fire, live by love when the stars fall backwards.'' I would like to say I paid attention to those important words, but that would be a lie. And what I promised myself is that I would never lie again and keep my promises. Slightly indescriminate and small, but I decided to be better and promises are the beginning.

          And i did not follow my heart, because instead I ran away from my fear. and it was not something you would normally run away from. I awoke with all but the remains of my old leather jacket to keep, and that is what i left with. And i kept running from my fear. I've forgotten all but the most important things, and most of them i also wish to forget. i walked as far as i could, and first the summer followed, then the leaves fell and snow too. and just a few days before this story began, I found the first snowdrop nearby where i sit.

          It was just the stem back then, but i watched carefully as it grew and bloomed and every now and then i shake it's white head, just to remind me that it's still there and not everything changes so fast. im writing this, just like i said, beside the little snowdrop, beneath a large tree, in a park in a very large city. but there isnt much point telling you ther city, because although that might matter at the end, it doesnt right now, and nor does the name of the park. and i'm waiting for something to happen so that i will move on, but in a city this big, not many care about a boy sitting in a park.

          To settle my mind, and just incase anyone reads this,i will have to tell you the most important facts, or nothing would make sense. and i both like and hate to remember who i once was. My name is Charlie. Charlie Swallow, that is. and once upon a time, like in a fairytale, i lived in Seattle, in a large house, with rather too much money than i needed or new how to loose or, right now, even like to admit. but what i realise now, i had something more important with me in that house. i had a mother, a father, who did all the business and earning, and my little sister, Jess. Love you, Jess, if you ever read this. and if you survived, and if you still remember me.

          I found this notepad on the sidewalk about a week after i arrived in the City, probably when it fell out a kids school bag because the first few pages where covered in facts about angles and triangles. I say were, i ripped them out because they reminded me too much of Jess doing her homework on the kitchen table. and that was before i realised how much i missed her.

          I was almost sixteen on the day of the Fire, so i guess if i wanted to, i could find a newspaper and work out how old i am now, but after reading anything interesting, i give the paper to some homeless person. I guess i'm homeless now, but maybe it doesnt matter as much because i can never go back like the others could.

          This might be a strange and rambling story, because i never was any good at English, but other than the way i do i's instead of I's, anyone can read it if they take the care to read it.

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          I am waiting beneath my tree, the one with the snowdrop, for something. And that something is a girl. For the past three weeks, she walks through the park every Saturday night with her dog. and it isnt really that important, but her dog is a golden retriever, and they say that the dog reflects the person, so maybe that should have told me something.in any case, i am still waiting for her to walk past, pause for the sunrise while she sits on the bench in front of me and then move on with her slightly dreamy smile.

          And she walks down the path carefully. You see everyone running and hurrying around in this city, working and moving on like one big ant's nest or beehive, producing a society that is sweet in it's brief moments and protected by it's sheer way of life that i could never understand. And yet the girl takes her time, strolling,and getting closer with her head bowed. And she looks up and she is crying.