Catharsis

Number 4 ~ The Night

Neon lights sting my blurred eyes as the fine rain clings onto my eyelashes and fumbles for my scarlet cheeks. Burning hot. My chest contracts uncomfortably as the sweat sticks the raincoat to my skin. My legs scream underneath me as I sprint across the pavement. Cars honk furiously, their scorching amber eyes glare as I dart across them, caught off-guard. I don't care. I run. Eruptions of laughter tumble from the chinese restaurant and spill out from a staggering throng of night-clubs. The mingle together like flies ripping the flesh from a carcass before dissipating under the threatening stare of blue lights lurking around the corner. Everything is moving. Yet, the eerie stillness of the black sky remains untouched. Completely unmoved by the children singing lullabies in their sleep, or the slurred birthday speech in the hotel or the final whisper of a lone shadow standing on the ledge. They all fly past me. I feel safe, spared from the ever-present ray of judgement blistering my shoulders during the morning sky. The icy wind floods my chest and I drink it all in deeply like melted ice-cream.

I slow my pace and collapse to my knees in the park. My face aches from grinning with exhilaration. The chimes on the Cathedral tower sing their requiem. The death of another day, and it's final breath feels as fresh as water from a mountain spring.

I wander down the middle of the road. The emptiness stretching out in front of me. My rebellious action approved by the buzzing lamppost winking at me in appreciation. An iridescent smirk that hides under a gormless countenance under the blazing sunlight. The raucous in the high street quietens, and the windows close their eyes one by one. I look up to the sky one last time and over and over I think "This is it. This is what freedom looks like."