Their world - Part 1
“The world out there is big and gruesome. It will eat you alive and not regret doing so”, were the first and last words of our father. Those words said nothing and everything at once. If you lived like we do, the words would mean the world to you. They would be your guideline to everything you were to do. But you do not live like we do. And none of it has any kind of meaning to you. To me they were the world, to me they meant love, they meant danger, they meant hatred while they also meant death. They would be my saviour and my death-sentence. Where I lived, there was love and hatred all at once. No one trusted anyone, but yet still anyone could love everyone. It was a freakish little circle of our own. We enjoyed it to the fullest while we never truly got anywhere beyond it. It was everywhere and nowhere. We had made our home on top of a square hill. There were flames that would burn all night and a blue lizard standing behind a glass crying to the moon. There, underneath the flames, we camped and lived all our lives until Death came to get us. Then, we would find new life beyond the edge of our mountain as our family threw us to our final resting place. That was the end, all there was to it.
Our father was dead and gone. His first and last words rang in my head. They seemed to be killing me slowly from inside. I walked around in squares, trying to find a way out of who I was and who I should be. But I didn't seem to succeed. I didn't want to close my eyes for nothing nor did I wish to cry. But my eyes did not stay dry as I thought of our father and his miserable life. That life had been no life and it was the kind where he didn't leave our square-cliff to see the world, because of the words his father had told him a billion times, the words he then repeated to me and made me learn by heart. I had always hated the phrase and the certainty it was requested with. I would always hate it, but yet still, I would always and for an eternity love our father. I would love our home, the white square we lived on. I would love the view I saw from it. All grey on one side, and brown at one of the ends. But there, beyond those. There was life, wasn't there. It was just waiting to be grasped, waiting to be held on to. Waiting to be found. There was the world. And it was waiting for me. If only I could get to it.
I scream at the mountains: “Tell me something I haven't heard, sing a song that no one knows, make me laugh at a joke that doesn't exist.. Just give me something new..!” But no one responds my calls, no one does what I'd need the most. So I continue my route of thinking even further.
Many of us try to hide our pain, tell ourselves we are happy, put on a fake smile and scream inside, waiting to be found. But in the end we have to realize that hiding the pain makes it worse. The worst type of regret is the kind you feel when you know you can say something, but you don't. It's true it seems easier to wait for strength and dreams, but the imprints will always be there. Pain can be a beautiful thing, because it lets us understand the suffering of others, but none should have to suffer. None should need to suffer. Yet still we suffer. Sometimes more than on other times. Tonight I suffered alone, for I would not ask my family to pray with me for our father. They said that he was gone and left it at that. I merely hoped he wouldn't be restless in his death. I had thought that he was smart, but perhaps, just perhaps he was wise, too. But there's a line between wise and smart, thou to a person who doesn't wish to see that line, it might not even exist. There is also a line between being dumb and just being different, this line too, ceases to exist to a person who doesn't want it to exist. And if we go down this line of speech; being weird and different is just normal, but I don't think many people want to see that either.. There's so much we deny, just because we don't want it to exist. Too much. And yet still too little.
There, I stop for a moment, to look beyond our world. Our cliff. Maybe I could go and see the world one beautiful day. Maybe I could learn about the world, the differences and the scary things there. I'd like to learn everything. Is that too much to ask? “Yes”, the world whispers to me and I close my eyes yet again. There's so many things in this god-forsaken world I'd want and so many things I'd need. So many times I've closed my eyes and dreamed of my future, the one I have always known shall never be mine. So then and there, my eyes often open up with that sting of pain from my heart making them hurt more than they ever should. It hurt me a lot and I'm sure it will hurt me yet again. But I didn't know where to go nor what to do, so I never left and always stayed. Some day, I am sure of it, these thoughts would take the best of me and destroy me. The world would still spin, like it always has, merely without me. I had hoped and still, in a way, do that when it would be my turn to go, I would do it with pride and nothing less. I would be what I was needed to be, even if it was going to kill me slowly.
“Brie!” someone shouts out, I had known they'd come looking for me. “I'm here”, I answer, but not quite as loudly. Now they had found me, what they would do with the knowledge was completely up to them. I hear that person's steps. I know it would be one of my sisters. The way of walking gave out her name to me soon enough. Elise, the youngest and most silent of us all. I knew she'd make me questions as to why I was here instead of back home completing my duties of taking care of our mother and the rest of our family. My understanding of her questions, would of course, be very small like always. She always spoke with words that made no sense to me for she was a lot smarter than I would ever be. I would grow weary of it and then she would give me that look and I would do as she told me to.