Before I Could

I look where I’m standing.

Destruction from the war that has just begun.

That I must end.

I look in front of me.

My almost reflections staring straight into my eyes.

Waiting for me to make an action.

My life.

Oh, all the paths I have taken, they were closed, all of them, yet I went through them.

The fear of every breath, every time I escaped my shelter.

It was always empty.

Felt like I was speaking to the walls.

The adrenaline of running and searching for the way to where I started.

And every step forward, two steps back.

And when I was at peace, reality attacked me from behind, reminding that I can’t go back to normal, because normal does not exist.

Now I know.

Now I know that none of that was real.

Even before I opened my eyes for the very first time.

Even before my very first breath.

It was happening.

If I was searching and I running and getting so far away from anything good.

I could have asked:

How did it all come to this?

Running away.

To keep everything safe.

I could always come back if I want to.

Oh, you’re an idiot!

Someone has changed everything about my life.

The day I was born.

Everything was out of place.

I can’t do anything to change the past and there was nothing I could have done then to change the present.

So why do I feel responsible?

My time is up.

Sixty seconds passed.

Why does life feel so short while the end feels so endless?

If there was one thing I wish I have done, it would be to burn the pages because they burn the trail.

The door has opened.

My reflection has the face that could have been mine.

I run for the very last time.

The door closes behind me.

The light disappears as well.

An endless end. 

Want more?

Listen to Bar narrating an animated version of this short story by viewing the embedded video on the right: