I've been writing a lot lately. Maybe it's just the world closing up on me again or maybe it's just me trying to hide away from the world. I can't seem to decide which would be easier, to seek or to hide. Maybe I'm not who I thought I used to be. Maybe I'm not good at it anymore. It's been a hassle trying to get it out. Maybe I should let the sheet of paper be for a while and walk around. Maybe then, I'd get the inspiration, the urge to write.
It's been hours and there's been no inspiration or sudden urge yet. Maybe I am completely and utterly done for. There seem to be no space to hide behind the thin piece of paper anymore. I'm not welcome to spend my hours in the day there anymore. I can feel its tip somewhere within me. It's drifting away and still, trying so hard to reach for me.
As days went by and I stayed away from the journal that is mine, the numbers reduced. From ten thousand to a thousand. And now I'm left with all the light in my head, with no means to let it out.
This wasn't how it was meant to go. I feel broken, in multiple ways unheard of. What is this? A show for me to be made fun of? A classical act by the universe to strip me of the one thing that brings me peace? I do not know what else to do asides sit in the puddle that is my tears. What else will you take from me? What else shall you have me do? Times and times I have tried to reason it out. I have tried to make sense of why these things happen. What's the point of leaving me in the mess of a place that is this world? What's the point of me being immortal if I'm slowly going to fade away into nothingness and something mindless?
I want it back. I want my freedom back. I want, I think I want Oraya back. Would you make me choose between the two now, dear god? Why do you keep putting me in situations like this? I am to be the king of the gods soon. This is unfair for I had not done anything you wouldn't have done. I tried to save them. Gods, I did save them! I lost a finger from my left hand for them. I protected them from the darkness that was upon them. I let Oraya be for them. I bled for them!
Why was I sent to undergo this mindless punishment? Why would you condemn me to such fate? Will I die? Can you hear me father!? Will I eventually fade into nothing as I stare off mindlessly at the walls surrounding me?
But what about your throne, the throne? Who would rule after you? I don't think there was ever a time I cared enough about sitting on that chair. I do not wish to rule, I had told you over and over. But times after times, you'd force me with your magic to take a sit and lift my face to stare at the brightness of your eyes. You'd talk to me quietly about how it was my birthright and I was just like you. And then, I'd clench my jaw so hard and tell you I didn't want to be like you.
It might seem stupid but I wanted to be like the common men, like the mortals. I wanted to bleed red and not blue when I was cut. I wanted to fall ill when I was unfortunate and my immune system couldn't protect me anymore. I wanted to love at will and hate at will. I wanted to just live.
Please will you end this now? Can I come home now even if I do not think I have the ability to open realms as of right now? Can you bring me back to the castle that is our home, father? I don't want to be here anymore. I apologize. I should've listened to you. I should've let the other mortals perish whist the darkness took over. No no no. I'm sorry but I cannot seem to agree with that. I don't think I will ever agree with that. You said my mother was mortal and beautiful. You talked about her with a smile on your face as you stared off into space. You talked about how she's make you smile and laugh on your worst days and how clumsy she was. Mortal, human.
How could I let that perish away? How could I stand by and watch them be erased!? Tell me father! What unforgivable thing did I do this time? Are you there? Just within the thick mass of fluffy white clouds. Can you hear me? The sound of my voice, the way it breaks at the end of every unanswered question? Can you see me? Do you look down at me from your throne, with the silver grey crown on your head? The king of gods, they called you. And the god king's heir, they'd call me.
Why do we seem so different but alike at the same time? I can't stand you. I do not wish to be around you. Tell me something father, does this pleases you? Do you so despise me that you condemn me to a fate like this one? A fate fit for the lowest criminals and traitors to the crown? I can't cast magic here. I cannot feel the outside world here. I cannot breathe properly in here. I always hated using my magic. I hated the way it immediately differentiated me from the other kids my age, because mine was so obvious and powerful and they'd immediately recognize who I was. Because it was similar to yours, the power I beheld.
Father let me out please. I can't feel my fire in here, can't feel the electricity that usually tickled the tip of my fingers. Am I to die in here? Let me see her one more time please. Oraya. Let me hold her and feel the soft expanse of her skin against mine. Let me hold her, with my chin on top her head whilst strands of her hair tickles me. I do not want the throne. I only want Oraya.
Thanks for reading.
