"Are my eyes seeing an illusion? Was this a dream? Did tears finally filled my eyes, or was it the rain that fell on my face?" millions of thoughts went through my mind as I looked through the rain through a glass window of a shop. Would this be something I couldn't forget, or was this a little reward for all the days I've patiently waited? Did I wait a complete year for this situation, to see my wish coming true for a little part while standing in the pouring rain while the bus I had to take to come home drove past me without I even noticed. I didn't hear my friends shouting everything they used to call me. They even called me "beaver" again, how long has that been ago? Three years, perhaps? No, it must be at least four years, if not five. But not even a nuclear bomb could get me back to the ground as I was starring to the glass window and what was hiding behind it.
"How much has changed in a full year?" I asked myself, as I kept starring at the window. The long blue jeans-like coat was placed on the wooden table, only a few inches away from a nearby wooden chair. Even though there was more than 8 meters distance between the wet blue jeans-like coat and myself, I could now seriously feel my eyes filling up with tears; it was clear, this wasn't rain. "Did I not change emotionally?" I continued to ask as if I was waiting for someone to answer me. As if I expected someone to stand next to me, and provide me with the answers I was waiting for, and yearning for, for so long.
In a second, I could remember every dream I once had, every moment of harmony of my mind and every moment I cried while watching at the scar on my right wrist. In less than a few seconds, I could even remember the time of three years while I was sitting in the class, looking through my class, ignoring everyone I didn't want to know while asking myself, 'how could I be so blind?' knowing that I could tear myself apart from the inside. An incredible force to attack my imaginary-self was there in me, just for a moment. For a moment, I made fists, for a small moment, I had the urge to hit someone, not caring who. The urge to hit someone, the urge to relief my stress, the urge to scream and yell out how much I hated my previous self - how much I hated my blindness.
As if someone gave it to me, I suddenly remembered the only moment she and I were alone. There was one moment, twenty minutes in three years, sad to let it end like that. I could remember her standing there, on the balkony, together with me, resting from our intensive exam that would decide if we'd graduate or not. A moment that kept my heart pounding harder than a car that hits a wall multiple times. With no feelings for anyone, killing my emotions and avoiding all kind of such things - that was my intention; how could I be so blind? Why did I never look in her brown eyes before? Why did I never bother to really look what was behind her? Why did I join the flow, why didn't I step out of it, like I always do?
I could see a blurry person in front of me, I knew it was my imagination, but I also knew it was a sight that I should keep safe. I could see her standing in front of me, her long blue coat that was still torn apart after such a long time and her always blue jeans she wore. Everyone could say without hesitation that it was her favorite material, the kind of clothes she always wore became cliche, it was always the old torn coat and normal blue jeans and her long red hair that made you jump back into reality. "Why did I even belief what the others say?" I thought to myself as I could see my imagination work on its harderst for once, in a long time. "Why did I believe it when they said she was "ugly" and "skinny", why?" I asked myself with a shout in my mind. For once, in more than five years of time, I was angry. I finally made my two hands fists and a loud knack could be heard from the fingers that pushed against each other forcefully. My teeth pushed against each other and my eyebrows went down... and finally, my hair came down because of the rain that was putting pressure on it. If John or Wesley would see me now, they would never believe they were looking at their friend. Both of them could count on one hand how often I have been angry, how often I bothered to make fists and how often I tried to show that I could be serious. Who could actually say they ever met the serious me? Who of them all ever watched past the 'Ed' they always called me? Why was she the first one who managed to through all my lies? Why is she the only one who disables my ability to improvise?
As I kept starring at my illusion that was created by my imagination, I could finally feel my finger nails getting wet, getting wet while I kept my hands in my pockets - like always. My eyebrows loosend and I quickly pulled my hands out, forgetting that I was angry not even a second ago, and I could see that I finally pushed far enough to release blood from my hand. My long nails was something that I always had, those nails pushed blood out of my hand while I started to become dizzy. But before I could even react out of pain, I could see an arm stretching out to take the coat that was still placed on the wooden table. I had no hesitation in my mind that the coat was hers, and she must be there too.
In a year of time, I could finally see a dream getting true. I always dreamt so little, but when I dreamt, it was world shocking for me... and finally, a dream came true in front of my eyes. All kind of words ran through my mind with the speed of light as I finally saw her through the window that was getting somewhat unclear. Coatless, this time, but I had no trouble to recognize her and I could feel my right wrist confirming it. The upper wrist part started to burn and I could feel it screaming out of pain, but it did not reach my brain, my body didn't react to the pain. You could cut my arm off, but I don't think it would hurt, I don't think a sign would be given to the upper chamers of my head to let it feel pain.
"Eddy!" I suddenly heard my friend and his girlfriend shout at me as I jumped back to reality and quickly turned around to see my friend sitting on a bench only a few seconds away from me. "Your bus is still standing there" my friend mentioned while he winked at me. Meaning that I have been dreaming all the time, the bus arrived, and I kept standing still, not making any expression changes or seeing anything. I was just looking blank in front of me with no sight in my eyes, as if I was dreaming. No hair that was finally falling in front of my eyes, my hair was the same as a moment before - short. No long finger nails, they were short, just like I cut them since a year ago. No blood on my hands, they were not even wet. No shaking right arm, it was calm, and painful, like usual.
I nodded and looked back to the shop I was starring at so furiously a moment ago, only to see there was nothing there. There was a window alright, there was also a shop, but there was no table, no chair and most importantly, no one of importance to me.
I looked back at my friend, waved him, and his girlfriend good bye, and stepped in the bus to go home while taking a final look at the place where I stood only a moment ago, trying to convince myself that I was dreaming. Convincing myself that I was watching a dream and that my friend politely woke me up as the bus was still standing and he noticed I was daydreaming.
It took me a moment to find an open seat and I ploffed down, knowing that a friend of mine was sitting next to me while I looked relieved and relaxed that I was able to daydream about something as unexpected as that.
The moment I sat down I could feel the bus leaving.
After a full minute of silence, I could hear John, my friend next to me nearly shout at me. "**beep** Eddy! How the *beep* did you get a cut like that?" he shouted at me as he grabbed me at my wrist and pointed at the four deep cuts in my hands.
<div align="center">---</div>
Two things, above anything else. I wrote this some time ago, (back at Wc3c, as a matter of fact) and I have not correcting any mistakes when posting this here. No real need to point the mistakes out either, since I can pick them out as well.
It is a good thing to read if someone feels up to it.
-Fladian
"How much has changed in a full year?" I asked myself, as I kept starring at the window. The long blue jeans-like coat was placed on the wooden table, only a few inches away from a nearby wooden chair. Even though there was more than 8 meters distance between the wet blue jeans-like coat and myself, I could now seriously feel my eyes filling up with tears; it was clear, this wasn't rain. "Did I not change emotionally?" I continued to ask as if I was waiting for someone to answer me. As if I expected someone to stand next to me, and provide me with the answers I was waiting for, and yearning for, for so long.
In a second, I could remember every dream I once had, every moment of harmony of my mind and every moment I cried while watching at the scar on my right wrist. In less than a few seconds, I could even remember the time of three years while I was sitting in the class, looking through my class, ignoring everyone I didn't want to know while asking myself, 'how could I be so blind?' knowing that I could tear myself apart from the inside. An incredible force to attack my imaginary-self was there in me, just for a moment. For a moment, I made fists, for a small moment, I had the urge to hit someone, not caring who. The urge to hit someone, the urge to relief my stress, the urge to scream and yell out how much I hated my previous self - how much I hated my blindness.
As if someone gave it to me, I suddenly remembered the only moment she and I were alone. There was one moment, twenty minutes in three years, sad to let it end like that. I could remember her standing there, on the balkony, together with me, resting from our intensive exam that would decide if we'd graduate or not. A moment that kept my heart pounding harder than a car that hits a wall multiple times. With no feelings for anyone, killing my emotions and avoiding all kind of such things - that was my intention; how could I be so blind? Why did I never look in her brown eyes before? Why did I never bother to really look what was behind her? Why did I join the flow, why didn't I step out of it, like I always do?
I could see a blurry person in front of me, I knew it was my imagination, but I also knew it was a sight that I should keep safe. I could see her standing in front of me, her long blue coat that was still torn apart after such a long time and her always blue jeans she wore. Everyone could say without hesitation that it was her favorite material, the kind of clothes she always wore became cliche, it was always the old torn coat and normal blue jeans and her long red hair that made you jump back into reality. "Why did I even belief what the others say?" I thought to myself as I could see my imagination work on its harderst for once, in a long time. "Why did I believe it when they said she was "ugly" and "skinny", why?" I asked myself with a shout in my mind. For once, in more than five years of time, I was angry. I finally made my two hands fists and a loud knack could be heard from the fingers that pushed against each other forcefully. My teeth pushed against each other and my eyebrows went down... and finally, my hair came down because of the rain that was putting pressure on it. If John or Wesley would see me now, they would never believe they were looking at their friend. Both of them could count on one hand how often I have been angry, how often I bothered to make fists and how often I tried to show that I could be serious. Who could actually say they ever met the serious me? Who of them all ever watched past the 'Ed' they always called me? Why was she the first one who managed to through all my lies? Why is she the only one who disables my ability to improvise?
As I kept starring at my illusion that was created by my imagination, I could finally feel my finger nails getting wet, getting wet while I kept my hands in my pockets - like always. My eyebrows loosend and I quickly pulled my hands out, forgetting that I was angry not even a second ago, and I could see that I finally pushed far enough to release blood from my hand. My long nails was something that I always had, those nails pushed blood out of my hand while I started to become dizzy. But before I could even react out of pain, I could see an arm stretching out to take the coat that was still placed on the wooden table. I had no hesitation in my mind that the coat was hers, and she must be there too.
In a year of time, I could finally see a dream getting true. I always dreamt so little, but when I dreamt, it was world shocking for me... and finally, a dream came true in front of my eyes. All kind of words ran through my mind with the speed of light as I finally saw her through the window that was getting somewhat unclear. Coatless, this time, but I had no trouble to recognize her and I could feel my right wrist confirming it. The upper wrist part started to burn and I could feel it screaming out of pain, but it did not reach my brain, my body didn't react to the pain. You could cut my arm off, but I don't think it would hurt, I don't think a sign would be given to the upper chamers of my head to let it feel pain.
"Eddy!" I suddenly heard my friend and his girlfriend shout at me as I jumped back to reality and quickly turned around to see my friend sitting on a bench only a few seconds away from me. "Your bus is still standing there" my friend mentioned while he winked at me. Meaning that I have been dreaming all the time, the bus arrived, and I kept standing still, not making any expression changes or seeing anything. I was just looking blank in front of me with no sight in my eyes, as if I was dreaming. No hair that was finally falling in front of my eyes, my hair was the same as a moment before - short. No long finger nails, they were short, just like I cut them since a year ago. No blood on my hands, they were not even wet. No shaking right arm, it was calm, and painful, like usual.
I nodded and looked back to the shop I was starring at so furiously a moment ago, only to see there was nothing there. There was a window alright, there was also a shop, but there was no table, no chair and most importantly, no one of importance to me.
I looked back at my friend, waved him, and his girlfriend good bye, and stepped in the bus to go home while taking a final look at the place where I stood only a moment ago, trying to convince myself that I was dreaming. Convincing myself that I was watching a dream and that my friend politely woke me up as the bus was still standing and he noticed I was daydreaming.
It took me a moment to find an open seat and I ploffed down, knowing that a friend of mine was sitting next to me while I looked relieved and relaxed that I was able to daydream about something as unexpected as that.
The moment I sat down I could feel the bus leaving.
After a full minute of silence, I could hear John, my friend next to me nearly shout at me. "**beep** Eddy! How the *beep* did you get a cut like that?" he shouted at me as he grabbed me at my wrist and pointed at the four deep cuts in my hands.
<div align="center">---</div>
Two things, above anything else. I wrote this some time ago, (back at Wc3c, as a matter of fact) and I have not correcting any mistakes when posting this here. No real need to point the mistakes out either, since I can pick them out as well.
It is a good thing to read if someone feels up to it.
-Fladian
