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the boy
Other
 Created on 2-5-08
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 Story Rating G
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You do not know who I am, not yet anyway. No one ever understands who I am. I am the constant shadow that lingers behind the group of merry on goers. I am the boy who lurks after dark in search of a home. No, you do not know me, but I am familiar with you.
Here you are, reading my words, waiting for me to explain. The only thought that means much in this world… what’s going on? We all think it. It passes through our minds like an illusion, yet we allow it to feed our nerves and false conceptions of the world around us. Who am I? I am the boy who is lifeless. Who am I? I am the boy who is sad.
Life goes on, so they say, but who is they anyway? And life doesn’t always go on. It is cut short sometimes, and people move on and live, but nothing is ever the same. Death comes and goes like a breath of air, but how are you to know when to allow and when to mourn? When to pout and when to smile? Which death is meant to be, and which death was taken to soon? How wretched life can be in this maze of uncertainty, and how bitter a young boy can become.
I know you are lost in my realm of thought, but by the time I am finished, I trust you will understand me more than I understand myself. Sadness can over power someone, can mutilate their being, can take away their soul, and can throw away a beating heart. Be patient, my love. All will be revealed.
In a world where one cannot face the truth of death, or the afterlife, but the concern of what will come or what will not is more important, there is no wonder that the populace cannot see me. It is no wonder that you are afraid, confused, or bewildered. I do not blame you for bearing down upon me your beliefs and your accusations, but in reality, none of them matter to me. Keep them! If they are apart of you, by all means keep them by your side and never let them go, but to me, I am only a mere whistle in the wind; a transparent figure that no one can comprehend.
It all started two years ago, on a sunny bright day in Virginia. The sun was beating down on my weary back, and my sturdy arms rose up to wipe away the sweat that began to crawl down my face like a malicious snake.
"Benjamin!" I heard echoing through the tall, green grass. "Where are you? Come here!" The voice was soft and filled the air with liquid, but in its urgency…harsh. The heat was so intense I could barely make a sound. My blue eyes, squinting from the sun’s powerful glare, looked up in protest to see who was calling my name.
"Benjamin! My Lady will be here any minute, and what is she to think if she sees you out here?" Ah, it was Jessica, my nanny. Jessica was an honest girl of twenty-three with long brunette hair and breath taking green eyes. Her only down fall was that she was picky, annoying, and utterly faithful to the rules of her position. She was a servant and a nanny, nothing less and nothing more. Her gray, pleated dress swayed in the wind as she trudged through the grass in pursuit.
"I’m coming, I’m coming."
"You’ll have to do more than that. She’ll be here any minute!" She took my hand and pulled me along towards the house, an overly large mansion. There wasn’t a day that went by when a traveler wouldn’t stop and stare. It was your typical dream home, now of days. A large, red oak door, sky blue shutters, porch steps at every bedroom window, large living room windows that gleamed in the sun and showed any curious wanderer the rich contents lingering inside.
"You have no idea what I have to go through in order to make her happy. You’d be cautious to just do as your told, boy!" Jessica was dragging me into the kitchen through the back door. I could smell the potatoes boiling on the gas stove, the perfume of broiled steak, and the scent of a chocolate delicatessen in the oven. In the heat of the kitchen, I could feel the sweat sticking to my body, and the dirt caked beneath my finger nails began to enhance the reality of my appearance.
"For heaven’s sake!" yelled the cook. "Get him out of my kitchen! Clean him up before she gets home!" In a whisper I heard her say, " Bunch of meddling children trying to dirty up my work." Not the most pleasant individual, but certainly a master of her trade. I let Jessica tug at my arm as I watched the cook chop up her onions and place them into a sizzling pan of chopped tomatoes.
"Cook?" I asked quietly. It was apparent that she was annoyed at my still occupying her kitchen, but she finally muttered a reply.
"What?"
"Thank you very much for feeding my family." And with that, I walked out of the kitchen. The cook watched me go with a puzzled look on her face. I don’t know if I meant for it to be that way, but I do know that it made her feel exactly the way I wanted it to. All the years Cook had prepared our meals; I never once heard a thank you from anyone. It was high time I paid her one.
Comments
Please Login to post comments| On February 6th 2008 weanie2 Said : | |
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ok where are you going with this? |
