You wake up in the morning to your mum's melodic voice, asking you kindly to wake up and have breakfast for your long day. You brush up and before you know it you're seated at the dinner table eating breakfast. The alluring smell of pancakes takes over, the smooth syrup running down the steaming, warm pancakes.
Your whole family is seated at the table; your parents, your sister - thirteen years of age - named Celestia and your brother - seventeen years of age - named Kipling. All seated, enjoying their food with grateful smiles plastered across their elegant features as they chattered away.
Not a moment of awkward silence, not a person out of place and not anything out of the ordinary.
The sun is shining brightly, spreading light across the room from the window. This gives everyone a beautifully, light glow to their skin.
Your father soon finishes the last sip of his coffee and picks up his briefcase, muttering something about being late to work. He rushes out the door as your mother places a soft kiss on his lips that makes you cringe in your seat. Kipling then cracks a joke about Celestia and her boyfriend and we all burst into laughter at Celestia's reaction.
This is what I only could've ever wished for. It was a wish I have long been waiting upon to happen. To wake up to the gorgeous sound of my mothers angelic voice, to be greeted with the smell of freshly made pancakes and to laugh at lame jokes with Kipling.
From a young age I knew I couldn't always have whatever I wanted. 'Money doesn't rain from the sky', my mother always repeated whenever I would ask for ten cents to buy an ice-cream from the deli down the street. I was raised to know I couldn't always get what I would ask for but I was never raised to realize that you could loose almost everything you have ever cared for.
Parents seam to believe that they shouldn't spoil their children but they tend to forget that a child's innocent mind needs to learn there is more to life then wanting. A child needs to be able to differentiate between a need and a want. Parents also tend to believe it is better off not letting a child learn everything almost immediately, like the fact that they could loose almost everything. That they could loose nearly all the things they have ever dreamt of and loved.
It was once said by Rumi and I quote, "Don't grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form." But if it was true then why haven't I gained anything? Why does it seam like all that happens in my life is a loss?
I can't throw all the blame on the people who have raised us, after all seeing a child you don't want to corrupt them with bitter but honest facts about life. Children have this innocence in their eyes that adults lack, they have this beautiful understanding of this Earth. As though this is the place where dreams come true. Only when I close my eyes and have a deep rest will my dreams seam somewhat like a reality but even this universe has taken that from me. I can't even close my eyes to so much as have a nap.
Once you grow out of the innocence of being a child and learn, and notice, and realize that this life you're living, it's empty. There is this emptiness in your heart, it never leaves. It's as though a hole that is forever in your heart until you find something to fill it up with. What do you fill it with though? Love? Hate? Grief? Dreams?
I once heard that when you're a child you're born with a complete, clean heart. There's no hole in it, no emptiness. But as you grow older you tend to commit things you know are wrong, these things being called sins. You commit sins, the first time you throw a curse word you feel it in your heart. This guilt, it eats you away. Then later you would steal, it pangs your heart. The guilt washes over you. The thing is, once you commit enough sins you don't feel this guilt or the pang. It disappears as your heart get's used to it. The heart gets used to getting dirtied up with sins. I later heard the only way to feel this guilt again is by cleaning your heart. Repenting.
