It was late when he decided to call it a night. Thunder outside drove him mad. To him, it was like the end of the world. He decided to hide, to run away from that irritating feeling. Tucking himself in his bed was the most treasured thing he ever did. He is safe now, shielded and armed with wool covers. The heart is sheltered with peace. The clock is ticking, but sleep was away for this night. He had feelings to spill, and so, he grabbed his papers and the pen resting on them and triggered his mind for writing. Where did all the ideas go? They were buzzing all over his head. Did they hide? Did they leave? Or simply, they died? There weren’t any urge in him to dig them out, so he surrendered his papers to their prior refuge. What is wrong with him tonight? He wondered. This is emptiness in him, and he didnt have any ideas to write, so he decided to read.
As people scream out their true nature, his books did the same. They were his loyal companions. What he didn’t know, was that his night was a very important phase in his life. It is the night where his life will change forever.
He couldn’t read, the pages were blank to his eyes. Despair claimed authority of his heart, and his life rolled like a short movie in his head. “When will this still life end”? That’s it! The end. The end is what only matters now. He bumped out of his bed, opened the door of his balcony, climbed the iron fence surrounding it, spread his hands in the air, and got ready to jump.
His legs mesmerized in their place, his heart thundered faster than raindrops and louder than the noise around, but the raindrops were magical. They washed despair out of his system. He felt confused, betrayed and peaceful. Confused by joy, betrayed by emptiness, and peaceful by embracing hope that will lead him to a life where ambitions floated all over. He must be a different person now, he must make a difference. If it wasn’t for the world, it would be for his little lame life…
Hard floor under his back, extreme darkness surrounded him as he was not sure if his eyes were open. He focused for a second, tried to remember why is he lying on the floor, but nothing came to his troubled mind. Moved his hands around, waved them up above, but nothing was there. He got up on his knees, tapping his hands on the cold floor to make a way and suddenly, light flashed all over the place. He tried to cover his eyes with his elbow, waited for a minute so his eyes could get used to the light, and opened them to have a look around.
He was in a room of white and smooth walls. But something was missing. With a frown conquering his crumbled face, he searched thoroughly for the door of this room, but there wasn’t any. There wasn’t even a window. To his amazement, light came from nowhere. It was just there filling the creepy room. Putting his thumb and two other fingers, he squeezed his forehead trying to summon reasonable answers. How did he get in here? Why? When? And even where is he? But these were questions he couldn’t answer. Black visions roamed his head.
Reaching the more static questions, panic was taking place. Who is he? Who was he? What is he turning into? Only the echo of his questions thundered in his head. He doesn’t remember existing before. He doesn’t have whatsoever knowledge. An empty vessel worth nothing to fill it with. He must escape this nothingness and get out to existence. But fear is taking over. What will be waiting for him out there? What should he expect to find? Starting to exist? There might not be any place for him to fit in. With the drums of these thoughts, a squared crack started to paint itself on one of the walls.
But, no! He will not escape. He must stay and maybe fade away. At this very thought, the walls started to dissolve. The floor turned into millions of pixels and his balance was running away from him. He is falling down. No, he is not falling, he is fading away. Darkness is eating him, swallowing him into a deeper level. Maybe it is too late to fight it now. His last thought turned into dust, scattered in chaos, and it was only darkness again.
Curled in bed, bleeding tears, wrapped in darkness, and loneliness is his only friend. “Will it end soon”? He starts to think! He does this to himself. It cures him to get his feelings down. It cures him to draw tears out of his eyes. Maybe because at daytime he believes that life is great. Maybe if he cried his nights, he would laugh his days. He rolls back his day, his moments, in his head. How many shared a smile with him? How many shared a laugh? But no one to share his meals with. He eats alone, and chokes with every bite. Moon rays crawl inside, sweet and soft humming floats from outside. He must go out. As soft breeze moves forward, touching his skin, cooling his cheeks, putting the remaining tears back to where they belong. He walks down the road, puts his hand out, above the rising plants. Calmness reaches his head and peace gets into his heart. So much to scream out, yet no one to share the burden with, no one to give a hand in this heavy carriage. Suddenly, he notices the only friend that has always been with him. Never demanded a thing in return. Never complained and has always been there under the sunlight, it’s there, under the moonlight, it’s there. “Oh dear friend” he says. A joyful tear slips out, “If you could only talk to me” he says. And there he stays, his unconditional friend, his unconditional shadow. Silent, anticipating, and un-revealing.
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