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by Timber
Rated: E · Fiction · Other · #2264008
A girl along her journey to moving on from the past.
I picked up a cardboard box and set it on my bead. A stagnant beam of light drifts through the open window. Cool lighting illuminates my room. The room I grew up in. It started in the beginning. First me and my 2 brothers, then just me. Years drifted by. I try to hold onto the present but my mind drifts back into the past. With each coming day, my mind slides further into the dark cave of my grudges and fears. I am sick of being held in old memories. Unable to live present among the world. Growing up I was always worried. Worried about studies, grades. My future. Everything, every decision I had made up to this point had drawn out my future on a fine line, And for the first time in my life, that line was being drawn on my own. Stepping into my one path. I wonder what my future might hold. I began rummaging through posters and old toys in my closet. Among the many items, I found an item that caught my eye, an old drawing of a raven. I remember drawing that bird. Its delicate paper winds take up new winds. I remember when I used to run. In the field at school, I would run, spreading out my steps to run faster, taking longer strides. I held out my arms like wings. I felt so free then, a whole future ahead of me, but I was just a kid back then. Now my days are numbers like ticks of a clock. Returning to the present I carefully fold the paper into a case and slide it into the box. The sun is just now rising above the hillsides; The glowing mango sun hangs like a claw above the rolling hills and rocky cliff sides, plummeting into canyons and rocky mountains. I see an eagle soaring out above the mountains. Its hollow call echoes above the mountains. I wish I was that bird. Free. Freedom is something I always held above all else. The ability to make decisions, free of restraints and limitations. Now I'm older though. Like the people before me, they would say becoming older is a time of struggle and responsibility. But I did not ponder on that. All I could think of was freedom.

I could talk to whoever I want. Do whatever I want. A sudden burst of excitement buzzes through me. I struggled through my gifts and burdens. I held many grudges. I left my heart locked. My mother always told me to open up, be myself, but every time I opened up others would shut the door; I was rejected. Betrayed. I try to find my one foot, learn to move on but my past holds grudges bound tighter by time, bounds I cannot escape. I am known by many names. For some a friend, for some a villain, for some simply a quirk. A bend in the line of evolution that will soon be gone. I was never known for truly who I am. A friend was a kind name, but no one knew who I really was. I keep my feelings, thoughts locked up. That's what I thought was best. After all, I was doing everything wrong! The best thing I could do is follow the word of others, Yet I did not. That was a common name. Stubborn is how many would describe me. It can be difficult, being that way. Others will shut you down, calling you weird of a disgrace to mankind because of the way you view the world. Because of you. At first, these little comments did not shut me down; I would receive these comments on occasion, day after day. But after a while, I began to break. For me, insults and personal jabs were like scratches. At first, they healed quickly, but soon they became cuts, and the more they were scratched, the less they healed; becoming scars. These scars were the grudges I held. They cannot be healed. Not by time; not even by kindness. The pain will ease, the scars can heal, but they're always there. I was sick of always being told how to live. How to act, what to think, do. What people to befriend, what people to leave behind. I was sick of others telling me how to live! Who to be! I take a deep breath. I hear a hum from my bead. My mom. Telling me advice. I know her intentions were for the best but this felt more like threats than advice. I turned my phone off. Packing things up I began shoving clothes and personal items into the box. I packed my bags and headed out the door. A new life. “ Things will be better..”, I murmured to myself, although I know that I'm lying. I always wondered what it was like. Before humans, before earth, before time. What is the point of everything? ‘Why does everything happen to me the way it does?’ I took a final look at my house. Empty. Parents at work, brothers finishing school. This was when I would turn my new leaf. I am full of excitement, but it is drowned by the lingering thoughts. What will people think of me? Am I good enough? Who can I trust? What should I do?! I was always thinking. I should try to move on. The scars left by others made me think. I did not like to always think; Always pondering the many wonders you could have. But I can't move on! How could I! I sobered toward my car and opened the door. Foot on the pedal. Hands-on the wheel. I took another breath. Tasting the familiar air. Taking off like the bird I saw through the window. Turning a new page in my story. As I drove away I looked outside my door. Driving past the familiar places. Places where I would never laugh. Never Smile. Places where I would never cry again. The wind blew. As I rode further I watched the suburbs turn from quiet neighborhoods, into bustling cities, out through the countryside. Flat open fields drifted into rolling hills and sandy red rocks that sprung from the ground. Further. I wonder what will come next? I watched over the trees. Birds and deer leaped among the forest. However, at the edge of the forest was a fence. At first, scared to speak out I had made my voice out. But there was no response. Hours drew by, eventually, I arrived at my destination. I opened the door to my new life. The inside of the house was simple. A small dormlike house. A couch, 4 empty walls, a small kitchen behind the other room.

The inside of the house already was furnished but the rooms were mostly empty. Just a bed. I would have other people living here. I wonder how they'll be. My grudges shake me. Reminding me there still is. I want to let go. I unpack my things. Clothes, books, a picture of me and my friends. Friends I had not seen in so long. Ever since I opened up my door to them was closed. My family never let me see them after that day. Tears began to ball out from my eyes. Slowly the salty beads of water ran down my face. I began to take out more items from my box. Each item recalled a memory held within its grasp. First, the picture of the raven. Then a half of a necklace. I remember the day I had been gifted with this. My friend handed it to me, telling me we were now best friends, and that the string between us would not break. I was a fool for believing. That gift was now meaningless. Why did I still hold onto it? I finished packing my bags. Then I took out my computer, sorting through emails. I looked at them all. Stop. No. Bad! Read the many titles. I felt a sudden surge of energy. Not positive energy. The energy that could only be let out by violence.

I tried to calm myself down but the wave of heat I felt continued. This energy was the energy of my anger and pain. I recognized it, this was a familiar state of being. All sudden I snapped. I didn't remember what I did, but I was thrown into torment. I had been consumed. I cried. Tears stung my face, eyes red. Letting out a burst of energy I threw a picture of me and my friends against the wall. More tears billowed from my eyes. My rage stopped. The energy had left my body. I felt a wave of cool replace its heat. The picture was broken. Pisces of glass strone the room. I let out a scream. I stopped and looked at the broken image, fractured from the damage. I fell to the floor, falling onto my knees. I'm afraid. Afraid of falling apart, spitting in to like the picture I'd thrown. I reflected off the pieces of glass displaying beams of light that hit off each other. I thought of the friends I made. The event that happened. Things to come. I needed to let go. I needed to forgive. I opened up a small box in the bottom of the larger crate for moving. Upon the many Items, I avoided this box. Old photographs and letters had been kept away. Locked up. I've been lost and wondering. Dreaming the dreams. Wishing the hopes in the fire. The fire, that was it; I had to let go. A fire set. Mach strike. Fire lit. I threw in the photos, letters. I watched as the fire consumed the paper. Embers spread like ashes to the infernos growing flames. I watched in the ambiance as the flame grew from the burning letters. It is over now. The past was gone. I am in the present now. I ran back to my room and found the picture laying on the floor. My friends were the things that helped me find myself. I was not going to hold on to grudges, but remember the light. I took a piece of paper and carefully realigned the pieces of paper, taping them back together. I pieced the picture back together and pinned it to the center of the room. Suddenly I heard a creak from the door. I shook in place. “ Hello?” A voice called from the door. Must have been one of my new roommates. Something about the voices seemed familiar. I heard the pounding of several feet. I ran in 6 to the room and stood frozen in place. Treats rolled down the person's face. A friend never forgets. 2 others stepped in. A soft smile drew up my lips. I ran to them. It had been over 5 years since I had seen them last. We cried. I felt a light in my heart. We talked and cried. I had finally found my place, I thought to myself. I closed my eyes. like the fire you never die. The hardships you face help you grow, and the grudges you face, you must learn to let go.
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