Don’t Look Away

(Creative writing: May 2009 – when it all began)

Perhaps there was nothing wrong with her to begin with, and she was just as normal as everyone else. But maybe it was her honesty that landed her where she was now—a rut. All that she once represented, all that she once was, the person she used to be, all left behind with the rest of her past. Her memories are what they are—memories. None of it the reality of now, rather a fragment of the past she carries around with caution.

No one can explain her, no one understands her. No one can love her to the capacity she does. She’s alone, but not. Thrown into this place she couldn’t comprehend, this place she could never absorb, she sits in wonder. She watches as the cars go by, as people fall into the deep abyss of love. She watches as people don’t realize they’re being watched.

Life, the one big controversy waiting to erupt. Or maybe, just maybe, it already has. Maybe this rut she’s in is the result of being swept away by lava carrying to this state of confusion.

She watches everyone around her—no one is normal. No one conforms. No one can fully blend in with the scene. So what was she doing here on her own? Was there even an “answer” to such a question?

Tears started forming in her eyes as she unraveled the memories of her past. She wanted things to go back to the way they were. She would give up all emotions, even happiness, just so that she would never feel pain again. A long time ago, she was never happy; but a long time ago, she was whole and complete. A long time ago, she was never broken.

She had to fight back the liquidized demons they called “emotions” that were beginning to fall from her face. No, she couldn’t be weak. She couldn’t let society win. But society itself had an advantage over her. It was closing in tightly around her, entrapping her, blocking her from herself.

Outside this cage was a mirror.

Inside this mirror stood a girl with a distorted smile. She was pretty, and she was smiling. The eyes in the mirror told a story, a happy story. But as she studied this intriguing person, she realized that her hands were tied. She had no means of breaking free, but she was happy. The person in the mirror sighed. A tear drop trickled down her cheek, fell to the ground, but didn’t break. A single teardrop, so small and fragile, yet so strong it did not shatter as it hit the floor.

This girl looked away. She couldn’t bear the image of a teardrop. Looking down, she found a pool of clear water on her shoulder. She looked away. These teardrops were her memories melting, liquidizing. She couldn’t fight it anymore. She looked back at the mirror once more, at the girl who smiled and hid her tears. The girl whose hands were bound, yet didn’t struggle to break free. The girl, who could be happy.

She blinked, and turned around.

On and on she ran, looking away from anything which fueled her memories, her emotions.

Those memories, no matter how close they were to her heart…were unfinished.

MG

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