Bodies huddling together, fire crackling.
In a small clearing, unexplored by most of the townpeople.
Far behind the town cathedral, through thick shrubs and bushes, six people sat around a campfire. This was their secret base, a place invisible to other people – a place only for their existence. Five guys and one girl, their bodies huddling together for warmth.
When the corridors were empty, that was when the voices in my head became clear. Sounds from the surroundings fell deaf on my ears, muted by my sudden indifference towards this problematic place called “reality”.
I couldn’t even hear the sound of the rustling leaves and my own footsteps – messy thoughts had made everything soundless, deafening melodies of the nature from the windows.
“Say that you’re tired loud and clear.” Those words rang in my ears once again, demanding to have this frustration uttered out loud for the wind and the trees to hear.
But my lips could only quiver at the thought, face hardened for a split second to keep this smile on. For I can’t let this facade off – for I can’t let the utopia I’ve difficultly built crumble, shattered by the fact that it all has been a mere lie and that
I’m actually tired of keeping it up.
Last night, he showed up in my dream.
With a much shorter and cropped hairstyle, but still, the same smile and those several centimetres of height difference from that of mine. His skin was the same white snow colour and his brown orbs still sparkled like his favourite Orion.