I Am Ezra (Complete)

The Awakening

"Wake up..." It is faint, I hear it like a voice caught in the wind. Many people start to say it, as it is carried from the river down the mountain to my ears. "Wake up..." I can almost grasp the last word, the name at the very end of the statement. I am dreaming, I know this yet I am not lucid. There I am, running through the path I used to play in in the forest. The world around me shoots past, and blurs. I take this time to drink in the chaotic surroundings. As a child, chaos is an amazing thing. Not because it's bad, or harmful. As a child it is a good chaos, a healthy one. As children we spin on merry go rounds, and swing as high as we can. Our bodies are full of chaotic energy, but it isn't a bad thing. I stand just a few feet off of the ground, the dirt could swallow me whole if I was any shorter. Trees, and leaves, and fields pass me by as I run. I run through, giggling, voices shouting behind me. "Wake up..." I am the one who stops for nothing, who goes nowhere. I am the one without a destination, just a trip. Footsteps quicken behind me, as do mine. Sloshing through the mud, swinging through the trees, swaying with the grass. I am unstoppable, I will never be quenched. My fury is boundless, my love is unending. I am a child of freedom, and beauty. This is what I yearn for, what my nostalgia begs to be fed. A monster inside me has brooded for far too long. My childlike mind wanes with the moon as I traverse through the endless array of grassland. "Awaken..." There is a man who pulls up in a run down pickup truck. The door opens, and he beckons me inside. My childlike curiosity takes the best of me, and I still hear shouting behind me. Shouting, and a name I have never heard before. A woman squealing for me to top. But the door shuts, and I am lost to the clutches of something I never imagined to be so evil.

"Wake up, Donny..."

My eyes shoot open as I am wrenched from my slumber. My heart is racing hundreds of miles a minute, and the ceiling seems to sway and bend in my vision. I throw back the covers, and sit up straight in bed. Taking gulps of air I stand, and pace back and forth desperately. I run my fingers through my hair and let out strange cold breaths. Was that dream a concoction of random events? The only ones I've ever had were memories of myself. Donny? Who was Donny? That isn't me, my name isn't Donny. I punch a wall, and close my eyes tightly. What is going on? What are these memories that cut into my subconscious every single night. If they weren't mine, then whose were they? I throw open my dresser, and grab any clothes I can find. Shoving them on, I storm for the door. But I stop and clutch my head as the memories return. The golden braids, the man in the car, the concrete jungle in which I fell from. Who am I? Truly, who am I? I can think, I can do, I can register. But if you strip that all away, and leave only my memories, who truly will I be? It makes no sense, and it makes me angry. It makes me furious, and soul wrenched. I burst through my door, and storm down my stairs. Without doing anything. Without grabbing my keys, or stopping to skulk, I throw open my front door and slam it behind me. There he was, in all his nasty splendor, Phil. The name makes me want to spit right then and there. He looks up toward me with a plain angered expression, but it changed to fear as I approach him. I storm toward him with the ferocity of a thousand dying suns.

"You!" I spit out, jabbing a finger in his direction. His eyes widen, and he jumps back as I advance towards him. My face is hot as lava, and my fists as tight as diamonds. He adorns a more fearful expression when I speak again. "What do you contribute to the world? Nothing! Your mere existence is a premises supporting the fact that there is no God! For if a god existed, they would definitely have not created you! So, don't ever look at me again, don't so much as speak to me. If you even so much as have a distant thought about me, and I hear of it, you will know an extreme pain unlike any other!" Phil took short bated breaths, and froze up for a minute. I stood there, grunting and shoveling air into my lungs. He relaxes, and then runs, he runs as far away from me as he can. There was no retort, no retaliation, he simply ran away. I look down at myself. A stained t-shirt, and ripped jeans with dress shoes on. I look a mess, I'm sure that was what scared him. I keep walking down the sidewalk, the city coming into view. I detest this sight more than ever. I want to be the bringer of this cities destruction. I want to torch every single building, rain fire on those poor people. I want to level the entirety of it, and leave only freedom behind. I want the entire human race to perish, along with me. I want paradise, I want freedom, but I'll never get it. I know I won't, for life is that way. You work, and you exist, and you die. The world fades away, and soon there is nothing. Not even a goodbye from your friends and family. The city consumes me, and I feel myself inside of it. I feel nauseous. I feel like vomiting all over the disgusting road, and letting it seep into the disgusting sewers.