The Road Of Autumn [Interracial/WWBM]✔️

Chapter Thirty-Three: Closed Chapter

The funny thing
about chasing the past
is that most people
wouldn't know
what to do if
they caught it.

- Atticus

I have dreamt of this moment a million times. The dreams were nightmares, but dreams nonetheless. I imagined myself being a beam of light against the darkness of my past. I was the light that I truly needed to get by. I was the source of my own happiness.

But even the moon still needs the sun.

I had found my beacon of light to covert me when needed. That beacon shone brighter than my own fluorescent bulb. That beacon gave me the strength to always face the darkness.

I've dreamt this dream a million times. It always ended up an nightmare.

The darkness had its army of little bulbs as well, surrounding it faithfully. My own light had no bounds when the darkness shone its lights.

The little bulbs held memories of once was. The little bulbs were a reminder of what could have been. The darkness was taunting me. Daring me to deny or defy its power.

But my sun would always covert me.

My sun would block the dark and force away those terrible stars. The suns warmth was all my moon needed to feel safe again.

But alas, my dreams always ended with a nightmare.

No matter how strong the suns rays are, whenever the sun retreats, the darkness always reveals himself. It is a constant battle between night and day.

My dreams, my nightmares are the metaphorical truth of the reality of my active nightmare.

Timothy is the sun.

I am the moon.

Jason is the darkness.

The stars are apart of our shared memories wound.

I did no want to do this. I did not know why I was doing this, but here I am. I tried to convince myself, I even cursed myself to turn around, but here I am.

No one coaxed me into doing this. I was warned from left to right, but here I am.

Here I am standing outside of a place that started it all. Here I am at the place where outside of it, I have the choice to run away from my fears, but should I venture inside, I will face said fears head on.

I do not know what to expect from this or what I think will come from it, but I want to be free. I am tired of this.

Tired of running.

Tired of being afraid.

Tired of closing up.

I am tired.

And when you are tired, you are supposed to get up and do something about it, right? You are supposed to kick your own ass and tell yourself to get up and stop being tired.

At least that is what my conscience told me.

The braver me forced me to get out of bed and get dressed. The braver me told me to think about everything I would say in the shower. The braver me told me that I could do this as I tugged on my clothes.