In your mind

Cinq

   Ever since i have leaned on my side , frictioning against fabric of my sleeping bag , and faced the angry fire before me , i have been thinking ..
Did my dad just really like candles or the fire above it but somehow failed to notice that it was really the thing that gave the candle it's fierceness ?

It is often that we are fascinated by something but we don't realise it , we might fall in love with the full picture while we only fell for the one thing providing it with life.

i certainly didn't understand this fascination now that the fire alexander had started was dying down.

I could sense his discomfort and anxiety as he constantly shifts his position in his sac as he tries to sleep and i too couldn't sleep with all this anxiety of his that caused the fabric to scream with every muscle he shifts.

So all in all , he was making everyone uncomfortable.

even though i kinda started to accept the fact that i was going to have a second plan added to my previous one , that didn't exactly make me like him a lot.

i still considered him and his mission an obstruction.

  my original plan involved finding the perfect spot for my suicide.

I hadn't planned how yet but i knew that it at least should be somewhere peaceful , somewhere my soul can look at as it ascends .. or descends for the last time.

I thought of the lake in the woods behind our house.

i had found a frog on the grass near it's shore when i was six and i remember trying to show it to my mom , trapped inside my small hands and my feet running as fast as i could, my little feet jumping on the roots and various rocks to only discover that somehow , the frog escaped through my fingers while i was running and i probably didn't notice .. well that or I didn't catch it in the first place and thought i did.

i so badly wanted to keep it , as typical and predictable kids are at that age, i was unprepared.

And on my return to the lake the following day, i met a blue eyed boy , two years older than me, with tiny freckles on his nose called elliott. He was the son of our recently moved-in neighbours at the time.

I could vividly remember how much i didn't like him , he always underestimated everyone as if he himself was a demi-god.

And he was probably the first person i've ever punched in the face when he mocked me about the frog thing for the 10th time.

But i eventually cracked and told him right to the face that i didn't want to see him ever again, when he came to hangout one day holding a jar and in it was a worm and i was silent in disbelief as he said " can i be your friend now ?" Extending his arms and giving it to me , i didn't even give him a reply as i watched the worm wiggle and wrestle against a small branch inside. i stormed away , disgusted and confused. And i didn't notice that i forgot to leave the ugly thing with him until i found myself in my light pink bedroom, struggling with where to put the jar.

What sort of peace-offering gift was that ? i thought at the time. who gave somebody an insect offering a good restart of a sour friendship ?

I didn't go there after that for a while and for some unknown reason , i kept the caterpillar in the jar , occasionally looked at it noting that elliott at least cared to put lots of leaves in there saving me the trouble to find it suitable food, all the while keeping it a secret from my parents. as if it was the most badass thing i ever had and even though i knew i could return the insect to him at school, still i kept it.

I had the chance many times but i deliberately avoided him and ignored the desire to give it back, curiously waiting for it to vanish or die on it's own until I came home one time to hear fluttering of wings against the glass jar caused by a colourful butterfly inside.