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NoteSwift — The Stranger by-nc-sa
Published: 2013-01-31 23:03:49 +0000 UTC; Views: 106; Favourites: 2; Downloads: 4
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Description Taking one more big step and I’m finally free. Free from the limits, free from the walls, free from what I loved most. No more comfort, safety, or family. It’s all up to me now, and the thought doesn’t escape me. Moving on, the thought conjures dark claws, reaching from the doorway, and attacking me; trying to force me back inside. Struggling, I fight it off, but it doesn’t stop from leaving scars on my mind. I move along until I can’t see the door for good, yet the pain has increased; not being able to see it anymore.

Much later, I’ve made it; to the congregation of minds great and small, with the expectation that becoming great is all that matters. The place for people like me, at this stage of life, but not always ready for it. I meet new people, new faces, who act as if they can’t see the wounds, as if ignorance is the best medicine. I’m sure neither of us knows how to get them fixed.

It doesn’t take long for people who I’ve never met asking of my full time commitment, here in a place that I’d rather not be. Even if I carry on and move past them all, I’m only to be greeted with more. Many people offer me these same deals which I’m worried will become other keyless lock on the pile. I evade them all and stay un-findable whenever I can. Anywhere I go it’s the same ominous shadow peering from the slightest crack; anywhere lights lacks to find it.

A new day starts with nothing old changed. I can’t live in a place like this. These aren’t the roads I want to travel down, because at any moment they could throw me off the back of their train and leave me to get run over. Maybe I’m wrong, and I’m not normal. If this is what is expected of everyone, I don’t really have a choice with nowhere else to go. This is supposed to be what my entire life has been leading up to, what my family and acquaintances expect me to complete.

Maybe, these people aren’t the problem. If this is what the standard is, maybe I’m not qualified to judge things like this. I’m not qualified for much anyways. Days later, I work up the courage to stroll back down the hallway that I cowered through; giving myself time to observe and invest interest at all the opportunities that many will say I missed. One by one, I meet these people who offered me a chance to grow, and one by one they reject me. They tell me I was too “unconfident”, or “smart” to reject them. It’s all I hear when now I’m desperate. Some managed to even get someone else to take the chance while I was gone. I suppose some mistakes can’t be fixed.

I’m about to give up. Head home and let down my family. I spot someone behind me, looking down and almost mournful. I stop him; ask him how he’s been doing, and he replies with a mix of anger and sorrow. He starts telling his story of how he got into his bad mood, parallel to mine; getting scared, rejected, and now nowhere to go. I tell him my story, and he’s just as pleased as I am to hear how similar we are; closer to being “normal”. Together, we brew up a plan. There could be lots of people like us that need some place to grow when nowhere else will let them. We start a group together, just like the others, but this one tailor-made for buttering them up for everyone else to see. We make sure to set up right at the exit of the building; for all the people about to leave with disappointment, and we can be some of the few “nice strangers” in this place.
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