The city was fogged with green smoke, that felt like bugs going down your throat.
If you want to know where I live, well believe me you don't. An area of town where, nobody of any importance resides, but the cat lady walking forever in the street, with no clear idea of what destination she wants to go. If you want to know where I live, just ask my pet cat whiskers, who meows forever into the night - and nobody knows what he really thinks about, although they just assume he is looking for his next mouse.
The house of roaches, and crawling rodents. It is the perfect haven for the cat. Who am I? I am the little girl sitting on the sidewalk that nobody knows, or bothers to look at - except for my mirrror that carries within my reflections to stare into and speak to it of bygone days. And this keeps me company, or at least it did until I met him. That stranger that says he lives in the next town over. But if you look at the phone directory you won't find his name anywhere. That is because he does not exist. Nobody here exists.
Where I live, you don't exist. You exist, but you don't exist. A state that is very similar to death, but even then - every now and then, even he takes his breath. And thats how every now and then, somebody loses their pet, runs over a mouse, or never recovers after they have broken their leg. Everyone here fears his breath, and so every night in the month of March, you will find nobody here walking outside. And of me? I have simply stopped caring, since mom died. When I saw the man, he held out his hand for me. But he did not caste his breath to me, only the still handshake. Its that handshake I remember the most. "Jeeze dude, have you learned how to shake hands?" I said to him. But he simply stared, and said nothing - smiled absently. He was simply running errands.
"I am going to take you home, Betty." he said, though he could have said it to just about anyone. But it was me that happened to be sitting on the sidewalk that night. And so he siaid my name, "I don't assume you've seen your mother around." he then took out his watch, looked at the time. And that said that it was thirteen o'clock. Even the time doesn't exist. Nothing here exists, and I can go home where every one of my other friends - who has died that doesn't exist, resides.
We spoke occassionally, didn't go anywhere.
And then I arrived at the hallway, that was like a maze. Only with a maze, there was at least some promise of a exit to come out on the other side, into the world of a loving embrace. Instead it was a moment of chase, for in this time or place, there was always running, running, and more running into the world where time stood still. And yet you felt nothing, except for the early morning chill. I was checked out by the man at the desk that took my name, directed me to my residency.
I exited the doors, looked into the sky.
I thought to the sky, my oh my. And pretty starlit sky.
And then I walked, into the night. There was a headstone, I walked beside it. There was something that I somehow knew, but it surprised me. It said:
111Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbpjU9ntIBT
Betty Henrietta Ghardwell
1907 - 1920
Here lies Henrietta,
Choked on a peanut,
Her mother was right,
Your should chew your food.
111Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7eIgZ57u8u
I thought I chewed my food. So I walked to my residency, and saw my mother watching death-o-vision. And then she turned around, "Welcome home money, dinner is in the fridge." And then I walked, grabbed something to eat. And then enjoyed dinner. Apparently even after death, life goes on. I then walked up to my room, and was greeted by my room. My old bookshelves were still there, and many many books that I had grown to share. But nobody wanted to take from me. As if somehow they knew I had nothing else.
I went to bed, after closing the door.
And then fell asleep.
I woke up, and I saw something alive - or as much as one could be where I am now - that had taken the place of my closet, but then as I looked further it was merely my closet. Though to be sure, I walked over to my closet to check through it. Nope, nothing but the ordinary clothes. Nothing by my hallucination, mixed with the glow of the moonlight. But then I looked upon, the mirror in my closet. And it was shining, shimmering in the light. I walked further, and touched the glass. And then I was falling, and falling, and falling into eventually arrived in nowhere. If nowhere could be anywhere, it was here. I was here forever, or at the very least until the night was over - if it ever will be.
The shadows of the hallway gave a feeling of a maze, but with most mazes there was some form of lighting. And typically an exit somewhere. But it seemed like there was no exit here; not here, not there, not anywhere. I walked until I could walk no further, and I saw a shadow. It looked like me, but it had no face - much like a shadow. Yet it existed in the three dimensional plane, a feeling it gave off rather profane. It gave off the odd smell, of un-burnt propane. That wafted into my little nose, that was still there despite the day or so within the crypt. I woke up, in a restless panic - because I felt something behind me, but I was not sure what. Hey guess what, I want to leave. Give me another life, I want to weave. Nothing by silence, I was lonely. And I wanted a friend. I could not trust an intermediary, they just take your cash - or at least that's what mom used to tell me. I don't to align myself with that particularly reputation.
I wanted a life, despite my lack of it.
I wanted real dreams, no the silent scary ones.
Not the sorrow, not the despair. Not the bugs in my hair. When what felt like morning came, I walked over to mom - who was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. "Hey, can I go outside?" I hugged her tightly as I could. "It does not matter now whether you could when you were alive, besides I think you would." So I walked through the door, closed it, and then walked into town - that had not changed since I had died. It had remained as much it was before, the same old green fog. The same cat lady, walking nowhere specifically. But that was probably because she had no idea where to go - much like myself. I wanted to go talk to her, comfort her. But I thought my appearance much be ghastly, and she would not see me anyone. That look in her eyes, that never went anywhere. I thought I had it bad.
I sang my childhood song, and the world changed before my eyes as I sang it: Here where the daisies grow tonight, among a Winter's night, the moon sung its un-tiring melody, never minding the monotony of it's cello-ed bowing. Here the daisies grow tonight. Among a Winter's night, the moon that does not walk among us, lights our every night. All night long, the moon lights the way. Singing it's song tonight.
A winter's song, a swans song dancing in the lake. Enjoying the moonlight in the waters wake. A knew of the power of song, but if I could change the world with my singing, after I was gone - inspire some friends. then maybe I would finally rest a rest full eternal nights dream. Though I had not an instrument to play, I pictured myself eternally playing a violin forever and ever.
Death is not so bad, after all.
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