Monday, February 8, 2010

The Most Fragile Girl

This girl, when young, was happy and strong. A normal child, smiling, singing, dancing and drawing, creating other lives in the closet, and new worlds in her mind. As the years drifted by, she began to change, though no one really noticed; she didn't notice. Slow like thick honey, sadness crept into her words of poetry, and darkness began to shine, brighter then the sun, in her make believe lands.

As she grew, her childhood friends began to disappear, move to new countries and seas. She would never hear from them again, but such was life, she thought, life changes, people move on. When she grew old enough to love, she loved too strongly, or so she led herself to believe. She loved with all of her heart, and gave out only goodness, but others began to whisper that she was hurtful. She opened her heart even further, to put to rest these disloyal words which stung her. She remained true to herself, and true to her needs, but the more giving her heart became, the more whispers echoed off the walls, the more friends disappeared.

She continued to hold strength, but like a small grain of sand in her shoe, it began to wear on her, she began to see something was not right. She continued to do the things she had loved, she played her piano, she painted and wrote songs in her room, but the more talent she nurtured, the more the whispers became words. She would start over again, again and again, new circles and new friends. She remained smiling, but it was becoming more difficult, and her smile was losing it's natural glow. She began to harden on the outside, but inside she grew weak. No one really listened, or understood when she spoke of this looming problem, and then like a flame blown out in the night, they would disappear too.

She trudged on, facing smiles around every corner, being told she was imagining things, and she tried to believe, but the words became songs sung in rounds by many voices. She began to stop writing, to stop playing music. She lost faith as she was her only audience, no one else seemed to care. She began to take lovers, to drown herself in their overbearing arms, but the outside songs became criticism, looming over her around every turn, cursing her hardening eyes, which were growing cold with mistrust. In leaving behind her lovers, the looming criticism became raging madness thrown hotly at her, burning her love, and she was left shattered, and all turned their backs on her, laughing in her absence.

For the first time, she could see. Her whole life, she had lived virtuously, filled only with goodness and love for her fellow man. She had tried to do only good by others, but it was never good enough, and in doing so, she lost herself. She had lost her integrity. With integrity lost, she had been stepped on, over and over, again and again, and she blamed herself every day. After decades of blame and whispers, she decided that that was enough. Living every day for the happiness of others, she had no happiness left of her own. No one believed her when she said she was not happy, for she was exuding happiness to them with open arms, but for these same open arms, they could not see her tears, and then; it was too late.

With a head full of misunderstanding and unrequited love she decided to die. After a lifetime of giving herself to others who would later turn their backs and chastise her for trying to do right, she gave up. She lay herself down to rest, to dream this life away, and wondered if, in death, anyone would find that grain of sand in her shoe. But they would not, life moves too fast and the fragile are left behind to struggle. That night she lay down to die, but no one knew, and no one else remembered.

This story, though depressing, was an attempt at showcasing that we don't have control over the world around us... that we don't have control over what others think of us. As we grow older, the world does change, and it's impossible not to change because of it; most of us do the best we can. People around us may be more fragile than we'd care to think, and words are remembered. Stay true to your friends, share love, respect others for who they are, and be kind.

1 comment:

Bb Pat said...

Wow! Well written Crispy!

I can relate to your story on a number of levels.

Your conclusion is fantastic!