I'd leave a room of angels just to be alone
329 words | ghosts
When he goes, nobody notices.
It's one of those days, rainy and cold, when the people on the streets avert their eyes from each other and rush home. The night is quickly unfolding above the sky, and the only brightness comes from the windows and the lights of cars zooming by. There's a woman at the bus stop holding her little girl's hand that catches his attention.
There are tears streaming down her face, for whatever reason it might be, and it makes him think of his mother. What will his mother think when she finds out? He wants to reach out and hug this woman, but he knows he can't. All he can do is watch the little girl's face, and know they're both feeling the same thing. They're both way too small for this world to be alone.
He keeps moving, peeking inside windows and trying to guess what hides behind closed doors. There's so much color, so much movement and so much light that it overwhelms him for a moment. He shakes the feeling away. Maybe that's why he did it after all, because he just wasn't fit for all of this. His thoughts go to his mother again, and he wonders if she already knows.
His feet take him to a park, empty and peaceful. He sits on one of the swings and lets his eyes wander. Is this it? A dull kind of ache echoes through his ribcage, but it doesn't hurt like his wrist, still itching. No, it hurts because he knows he'll probably never see any of this again. He takes everything in, the buildings, the trees, the people on the sidewalks. They all belong here and have very good reasons to stay. That's what makes them different to him, and he knows they won't understand.
As the rain starts pouring down, he breathes in and closes his eyes, lets himself go.
When he opens his eyes again, he can only smile.
When he goes, nobody notices.
It's one of those days, rainy and cold, when the people on the streets avert their eyes from each other and rush home. The night is quickly unfolding above the sky, and the only brightness comes from the windows and the lights of cars zooming by. There's a woman at the bus stop holding her little girl's hand that catches his attention.
There are tears streaming down her face, for whatever reason it might be, and it makes him think of his mother. What will his mother think when she finds out? He wants to reach out and hug this woman, but he knows he can't. All he can do is watch the little girl's face, and know they're both feeling the same thing. They're both way too small for this world to be alone.
He keeps moving, peeking inside windows and trying to guess what hides behind closed doors. There's so much color, so much movement and so much light that it overwhelms him for a moment. He shakes the feeling away. Maybe that's why he did it after all, because he just wasn't fit for all of this. His thoughts go to his mother again, and he wonders if she already knows.
His feet take him to a park, empty and peaceful. He sits on one of the swings and lets his eyes wander. Is this it? A dull kind of ache echoes through his ribcage, but it doesn't hurt like his wrist, still itching. No, it hurts because he knows he'll probably never see any of this again. He takes everything in, the buildings, the trees, the people on the sidewalks. They all belong here and have very good reasons to stay. That's what makes them different to him, and he knows they won't understand.
As the rain starts pouring down, he breathes in and closes his eyes, lets himself go.
When he opens his eyes again, he can only smile.