The Uncontrolled One.
It started as a normal day of moving in. A new house, a new neighborhood, a new start. A new beginning to a life of possibilities. She was happy, she was content… she had everything she could ever wish for.
But it didn’t last, it never does… At first she did make an effort, really, and tried to hold her life together on her own, but how could she succeed had she though never known a life like this before. A life in solitude.
Oh, but she did find company in herself and her own head, her imagination and the fictional worlds others had written for her to delve into. And in sports, if anyone wants to consider that of any entertainment value.
Oh, but she did find company in herself and her own head, her imagination and the fictional worlds others had written for her to delve into. And in sports, if anyone wants to consider that of any entertainment value.
Yet, it came the time none of herself would suffice for herself indeed, and she grew lonely in her own head, bored in her never ending but self inflicted solitude. Loneliness was her only companion, a constant one that wouldn’t let her out of its’ cold grasp… unless she would have simply walked out of her open front door, which she rather stubbornly refused to do. And just like that, she grew more miserable by the hour. It had been about two days, at this point.
In her despair, she turned to the only comfort she could find: watching others being even more miserable on the tele.
And just then she knew that the end was nigh, it was the starting point of her inevitable downfall. Her physical health started echoing her mental one, and the will to life shrunk with every threat of will anchoring her to reality. Which was literally just outside her door, but that’s not the point.
A last attempt to keep her sanity, to keep her mind from slipping into darkness… or she just really liked reading her one book over and over again. And over yet another time (who wouldn’t?).
All that sorrow of her life (of three days, by now) downward spiraled until not even sleep would visit her, and she was but a shell of an empty woman, desperately awaiting change. Or the end. Who knows what free creatures think, after all.
And may it be for her wish to end her own suffering, or for the insanity driven attempt to find company in the grim reaper himself, she at last chose her own ending, like she had been free to choose her life.
The shock, the turmoil, the pain… (Honestly, it’s fire, what did she expect? A sunburn? Not that she would know what that would even feel like, on her skin, since she never left her darn house...) And she dwelt in the fires of her own personal hell, unwilling to back away from the brim of a scorching death. Her kitchen, a self inflicted furnace… oh, tyger tyger. (Props to you if you get the reference. Little bit of innocence and experience there...)
One last time she prayed to her merciless gods (me, I guess, as if I would’ve helped her… I enjoyed watching her burn.) in seek of guidance, a savior maybe, but she was alone as she had always been. And she burned in solitude, until at last her dying wish was granted to her, a savior coming for her tortured, four-days-old soul. Death wore a nice cloak that day. And an even nicer tablet, I assume… gosh, the need for modernization (digitalization?) gets everyone these days.
And upon that, Sky died. Alone, burnt and in her pajamas.
To be continued...
