To those of you who don’t know, every so often I like picking a random picture and writing a short story about it, timing myself to see how long it takes me. I hope you enjoy!
Length: 439 words
Time to write: 31 minutes (but I was working on other stuff during that time, too)
Favorite description: To feel the pain welling up in my heart and spilling out through my veins until my whole body was controlled by the need to get even.
Hardest part: The ending
My backpack half sliding off my shoulder, I pushed the door open, frown already in place, knowing I was going to hate it. No matter what happened, I wouldn’t be happy. I couldn’t be happy. Showing any kind of positive emotion would be validation for them and I couldn’t let that happen. I wasn’t here by choice and come what may, they would know that as clearly as if I were shouting it in their face every second of the day.
The gasp that somehow came from my throat betrayed me before I could cover my face with an arrogant mask. The room. The room was everything I had imagined as a child. It was like walking into a dream and realizing that the dream had become your reality.
How had they known? From the sage green walls to the wide wooden floor boards, I felt my heart constricting as I gazed at the beauty in front of me. They weren’t supposed to understand me. They weren’t supposed to try and make me feel at home. I wanted to be angry. To feel the pain welling up in my heart and spilling out through my veins until my whole body was controlled by the need to get even. But how could I get even when there wasn’t anything to get even at?
From what seemed like a far away world, I heard what could have been their voices talking to me, but I didn’t turn around. I was tired, oh so tired. I just wanted to be alone. My overwhelming desire to vent and scream was dulling into a numbing awareness that maybe I had been wrong. I wasn’t used to being wrong. I wasn’t used to changing my point of view.
Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid. The words were written in flowing penmanship and framed in a thin, black frame, causing me to stop and take notice of them. Swallowing hard, I read them again.
Peace. What did that feel like any more? I hadn’t experienced the sensation in so long I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt it. Letting my backpack make the rest of it’s journey onto the floor, I walked over to the frame and lightly brushed it with my fingertips.
Maybe getting even, being arrogant, being right all the time… Maybe those emotions weren’t worth it. Maybe, just maybe, I could trade them all in for peace. “It’s beautiful,” I whispered, a foreign, tentative smile stealing over my face.