lizi –

the tree, tall and old, leans over her, puzzled. he’s been here for almost a century now, soaking up the sun and swaying against the wind. his leaves have grown so thick over time that he can shelter people from the rain, but why they would want to be sheltered he doesn’t understand. the rain is only beautiful and wondrous to him.

but it’s a sunny day today, and the girl sitting beneath him isn’t hiding from anything. he recognises her; she’s the girl that used to sit there, talking and laughing, never alone. but today she’s just thinking, silently stirring through the thoughts in her mind, with a slightly pained expression on her face. he realises that she’s remembering. he has seen it all before, thousands upon thousands have sat at his roots, unaware of his listening as they poured out the contents of their minds. he has learnt much from the humans that share their thoughts on the little bench beneath him, but he still fails to understand.

human nature, he thinks, is extremely puzzling. they all seem to understand so much, yet so little. he has watched countless people wait on that bench for a particular someone, knowing they won’t show up, but staying anyway. and when the truth they already know is vindicated, their crestfallen faces show no trace of victory, no sign of triumph. only sadness. no one understands sadness like a human being. anger and frustration and annoyance and pain, yes. but not their hopeful sadness.

she moves from her sitting position, and curls up on the bench, unable to forget. she’s not waiting for anyone, he realises. she’s just alone.

i dream of running and falling. i dream of my heart beating so fast it feels like i should be running. like i should have fallen. like i’m somewhere i don’t want to be.

and when i wake up i remember them. i don’t need to drink the other half a glass of water; when my mind seeps back into consciousness all the dreams remain in my mind. all the images are floating around, but they no longer make any sense. how come they made so much sense when i was asleep?

they say dreams reflect what you think of during the day, and i guess it’s true. but the thoughts are played out into a drama series that’s incomprehensible in real life. they’re magnified, and they grow into unthought of possibilities. posibilities of you and me.

they’re not fantasies, these dreams. just an alternate, ungraspable reality.

and as always, i’m the one who falls.

today, she put it on the table and it reminded me

of you and even though i was surrounded

by people i couldn’t think properly for a while because i was confused at why these thoughts pop up so easily. it

lingered, and i had to make myself think of something

else. and even though i want to say something it’s like there’s nothing to say. i’m not

ready to take that step because i can’t forget the pain, and it wasn’t

only you, i care too. but

not

enough to do anything right now. but this.

there are two fish at the bottom of the wishing well. there’s a platform covered with five cent coins that people have thrown over their backs in a stupid human condition called hope.

the fish always play a game of dodge when they see the humans coming. they swim away from the coins to avoid getting hit while they chuckle at each other, attempting to guess what the humans are wishing for. they’ve established that most of them wish for the lotto but some wish to become better people. when they come in pairs they fight each other over the telling of their wishes. some of them believe that if they say it out loud it won’t come true. the fish giggle, because they know it won’t come true anyway.

this time, there’s a boy and a girl. they take their coins out and throw them into the well, laughing about the fish in the well. the fish laugh too, stupid humans.

they linger for a moment, deciding whether to tell the other person what they wished for. the fish strain to hear, moving closer.

‘he wants to be smarter and she wants to win the lotto,’ the first fish says.

‘i disagree. he wants a lot more than to be smart. and she wants a lot less than to have lots of money. they’re happy, look at the way they smile. nothing so simple could make them happier.’

the second fish is confused. he remains confused as the two happy people walk away. from each other.

she tosses and turns, like a log rolling down a waterfall, the hotness of the room drowning her in her bed. a myriad of thoughts rush through her head, keeping her from the sleep she longs for. the sheep escape from her mind, making way for the thoughts that are keeping her awake. every time they cross her mind, her heart beats faster and she rolls over in frustration. fuck. better get V tomorrow morning.

when laying awake at this time of the night, she keeps her eyes closed just in case. in case of what, she doesn’t know, but there has to be something unpleasant out there, lurking in the dark. she buries herself in the blankets, comforted by the suffocating feeling. it’s safe. if there’s any danger, at least it’s not from an outside factor. at least it’s from herself.

the floor opens up, throwing the bed and her blankets down into the abyss. entangled in her own trap, she can hardly move, and succumbs to the falling. it goes deeper and faster, until the force of gravity levitates her slightly, so she is no longer supported by the bed. and for a moment there’s a peaceful serenity. she doesn’t think of all the things that have gone wrong, or all the things that hurt. she thinks of nothing.

but then the alarm goes off, signalling another school day.

for every dream, there is a reality. for every precious moment, there is a regret. yet the reality of these regrets are not recognised until it’s too late.

he’s walking towards the light in my dreams. there’s no long tunnel filled with dark emptiness, just a speck of light that he thinks will be better than anywhere else. the speck of light is in the opposite direction of me. driven by the possibility of a happy ending, he walks on.

like a black and white movie, the colours eventually blend and his outlines fade away. not even a shadow remains now, and the memories of characteristics and mannerisms are seeping out of my consious mind. i still dream, but when my mind is catapulted back to reality all i can do is remember. there’s a gaping hole in my life. i dig up some earth and attempt to fill it up, but it just falls into the never ending void.

it makes no difference.

i need to take the pictures off the walls of my mind. redo the furnishings. change my surroundings. but i can’t seem to refurbish my dreams.

the handsome prince on a white horse is not longer the ideal man in modern times. nowadays, the best thing a girl could have is someone rich, successful and hardworking. big house, nice cars, exotic holidays; that’s what life’s all about.

of course, the essentials remain the same; the prince was probably the wealthiest chip on the block, and becoming a princess allows a girl to have anything she wants. it’s just that the idealised version had been scrapped, and replaced with a modern, materialistic and superficial version of love. no one minds, though, because we’ve all evolved into sophisticated people.

so i sit here, looking at a balding man in a grey suit, flaunting myself in hope that he’ll come over and buy me a drink. a woman once told me that this is the club the elites come to, so i quickly secured myself a bar stool. i saw him get out of a jaguar. cinderella may not be interested, but i sure am.
i smile, cross and uncross my legs and flick my long blonde hair in his direction, all the while pretending that i have something more interesting to look at. it’s so easy to capture the attention of a man, but so hard to hold it. women today are at a loss, because what she wants in her life can be interpreted in so many ways. i hope this guy just wants a trophy wife, not like some men who feel the need for an independent woman.

i turn a little to get another glimpse of him in an attempt to fit him in either category. and i see something that devastates me. he has a woman. they smile at each other as she kisses him hello, and i glare. time to pick another target.

the bright blue sky in the morning was polluted by a thin layer of grey. as i walked further towards it, it grew thicker, until i turned the corner and i saw it.

in the not-so-far distance there was a trumpet of black smoke rising up into the air. it swirled and expanded, making a giant black rainbow across the sky. stunned, i fumble for my phone and capture the moment. but i need not have wasted the effort; the black mess continued to rise into the sky, turning yellow as it moved further and bestowing fog upon the streets.

it occured to me that the fire was definitely still going strong, and i wondered whether anyone had called the fire department yet. surely they had? if there were people living in the area they must have realised what was happening. nevertheless, the fire wasn’t close to subsiding, but i still didn’t call emergency.

i just stood there wondering how many things would end.

she’s pretty, from far away.

nothing is ever as good up close, especially when it’s yours. but from the distance, she could almost be beautiful. almost.

i take a few steps closer to get a better view, but she moves further and further away. it’s almost as if she knows once i get close enough i’ll discover the truth, and won’t care. she’s baiting; she wants to keep a distance and keep me interested. but she doesn’t realise that i’m not a shark. i know she’ll start running the moment i get too close. i try anyway.

the lights blink, and everything melts into the dark, eerie night. i’m left feeling my way around, aware of all my other senses while my vision is blurred. i feel someone next to me and i know it’s her. focusing on the outlines of my surroundings hurt my eyes, so i continue to rely on everything else. i can feel her warmth, and smell her scent, and i hear her whisper into my ear; ’stop. it’s more fun this way.’

when the lights turn back on, she’s gone. i blink to clear my eyes of the hazy grey mass that has filled them and look around. and go back to watching from a distance.

whether it makes her more or less beautiful, i will never know. 

It started raining the moment I turned into my street, almost as if the heavens were masking my arrival. Although I only had to walk 100 metres before I could hide under shelter, the raindrops were so large my thin white uniform became wet and see through. But I didn’t hurry my strides, only looked up determinedly like I had told myself I would do all the way home. The downpour made it hard for my eyes to stay off the ground, a feeling I had begun to get used to as I forced myself to look ahead during my walks. It had become increasingly obvious to me that whenever someone walked past me I failed to meet their eyes, and after one quick glace at their face and body I always hastily avert my eyes to the floor.I placed my hand on the cool metal of the doorknob as I fumbled for my keys, searching for an object which would permit my entrance to safety. Yet this safety held consequences I hated, and I sometimes even thought of sacrificing a home to live without them. I stole a quick glance at the top half of my body as I crossed the tiles of the foyer, making sure I didn’t look too flushed or too pale just in case it caused suspicion before I launched myself up the stairs two at a time.

When I reached the top there was nothing there. The familiarity of a home had disappeared, and in its place there was nothing; nowhere. Nothing to hide in, nowhere to go. I look around bewildered, and my eyes land on a note.

 There’s nowhere in the world that’s reserved just for you. There’s no space in anyone’s heart that’s so filled up by you that no one can replace it. Remember that.