ME

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
First hand written, No edit whatsoever, Sorry about that.

Submitted: November 20, 2016

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Submitted: November 20, 2016

A A A

A A A


*The alarm clock starts ringing at 8:00 am…*
I wake up, once again with a deep sigh, rub my eyes and smack the poor clock as if we were in a bad relationship. We kinda were…  
I intake each moment of misery deeply each morning and with the face of “here we go again” I continue on in my life.
Still thinking that why? Simply why…
I open my laptop and search through job offers and position that so likely are filled with a person more capable than me.
I sip my coffee, the old friend that have somehow managed to keep the pleasure it gave, unlike others. *Looks at the alarm clock*
The sound of the city runs through my skin as I kill the moments in my small apartment. People running to their jobs and chasing all the dreams they have. I can see them happy. Where do I fit in this picture? As the photographer maybe…
*Scrolls down job offers*
I see another restaurant waiter offer.
*Flashback*
+Do you know what this is? *yells*
-No, sir… +It’s called a complaint! I’ll read it for you!
“Dear manager of this so called service oriented restaurant, I will never come to this restaurant again… If you are asking how come? The answer is with you waiter… Signed, Johnson”
*Silence*
+This isn’t the first one. You’re fired…
I could see his eyes fill with anger and despise as he stared at me…
-But sir… +Leave. Right now…
*comes back to the laptop*
Yeah… I’ll pass this offer…
As I keep scrolling, I make a small talk with myself as I always do. Thinking about what or who caused “this” person come to be? Parents? Society? Bad friends? All of them… I don’t know. I pop up another headache pill as I hear the soothing music of diesel engines and phone calls fill my ears…
*Is scrolling*
As the story of my life unfolds again and extends the shadow of beliefs behind me, I come across an offer…
“Old personal library keeper needed” Well that was subtle…
I called the number at the end of the offer. Not expecting anything other than a mean to fill this cursed organ that is more troublesome than a toddler. After a few rings, a seemingly old voice picks up and with a quiet tone says: +Hello? Who is it?
-I’m calling for the ad you put under library keeper.
+How old are you?
-25 
+Can you read?
I thought he was joking at first. Then I said cut this old timer some slack…
-Yes, I just read the ad myself.
*11:36 am*
With a pause he says: +Be here at 1 pm.
Before I could say anything he hangs up the phone. As usual I think to myself that here goes another shot at life. Can I dent it even this time? As the inside voice of me says, “You wish *humph*… Library keeper? Good luck buddy”
I put on my jeans that were once dark blue and now it’s hard to name a new color that is hard to identify on the spectrum. Pick up my hoodie and leave my castle as I lock the screeching door, thinking to myself that a lock is pretty useful here…
I start walking towards the address replaying all that has been going on. The fights, The tears of whom I loved, The looks of those who see humanity as income and fashion, the mistakes…
I reach the destination… I look at the house that I thought would look old, which it was…
*knocks on the door*
That old quiet sound again comes:
+Who is it?
-It’s me old timer, we talked on the phone…
*Door opens* I see an old man with a white beard and a slightly hunched back, looking at me as I was here to take his taxes.
“Old timer… *humph*”
He muttered as he was turning around. He pointed to a hallway of his neatly decorated house which was complimented with red and green colors nicely…
-Nice house old timer. Your wife decorated it?
He keeps silent for a few seconds…
+Haven’t touched the darn place since you were born sonny. Abigail was good with colors…
-Where is she?
He doesn’t answer and from his huffs and puffs and talks he has with himself I don’t bother on asking more questions.
+The history books are over here and the psychology books are here, and at the end of this shelf are handwritten ones. As he turns around to leave, a book without a name catches my eye. I pick it up and ask him:
-What’s this old timer?
He takes an unwanted look and as his eyes discover the so called book I picked, he reaches in and grabs it…
+That’s not supposed to be here… *says violently*
Grabs the book and leaves the room.
I sit on the old chair at the side of the book shelves and look at the room. Silence is the number one tone in the moment.  
“The silence is still better than the symphony at home…”
I then look at the books. As my eye skims through the books, one of the handwritten books grabbed my eye as a hunters net catches a wild animal…
The title of the book was: “Are you, you?”
A shiver run downs my spine as I grab tightly at the chair. A tidal wave of thoughts and scenes smash through this faceless monument that I made of myself as they all seem to say no. You’re not you…
As I come back to the room, I stand up as if the chair is electric.
I move towards the book.
The silence is breaking through the bullets of thoughts flying in my head. This is the feeling of a child discovering something new…
I pick it up. It felt heavy. Heavier than a normal book.
The whispers of the thoughts are unclear to me. What are they saying? What is this feeling pouring in me?
I open it…
“In memory of Abigail. Signed Samuel”
I flip the page, I see one sentence at the middle of the page as I feel a shiver running through my arms and back…
“This is you reading this sentence, can you hear you?”
The storm in my head stops…
The whispers are gone…
My mind is blank as I turn to the next page.
It’s blank.
The next page, one sentence…
“Who are you?”
This sudden unwanted actions started to move my hand towards the pen on the table at my sight. My hand is on the blank page. Without any movement. It was as if it wanted me to write something.
I look at the sentence again…
“Who are you?” The page remains blank as Samuel walks in…
+"You found it… "
I remain silent…
+"Many came here and left without looking at that book. I wish Abigail was here to see this too. That book, is you. As it is me and was Abigail… "
My body runs with shivers as I hear the satisfied voice of the old timer.
+"You don’t trust yourself… You’ve let go of yourself a long time ago. You blame many on it. Don’t… In your hand, is you… Trust yourself…"
I hear his footsteps leaving the room as I fall deep in thought…
No more images, scenes, thoughts, griefs… 
My body feels numb. As I think deep in this space of blank, I see the book in my hand. The blank page was no longer blank… I could only see lines. Meaningless lines of nothing.
I head to the hallway of the house looking for Samuel and the many questions I had that answers was with him. As I reach the hallway, I see a note on the table… “Only you can answer to you…”
I look at the time…
It was 9:43 pm…
I head home with the book…
As I open the door, I could feel the load of weight reduced off my shoulders as I sit and think…
Again I turn to the blank page and look at the lines and look at the sentence: “Who are you?”
A dance of waves run through my right arm… As it starts to wave around the blank page. The wavy movements draw the figure of a heart…
I could hear the pounding of my heart through the noise of undescribed feelings and shatters of scenes…
I feel a slight alien feeling. Something that was long forgotten. A strange feeling of love. I couldn’t think why. As my hand moves toward the center of this heart like shape…
The shiver runs through my chest and hand as it starts to draw lines.
I couldn’t stop it…
The lines formed a word…
In the middle of all the lines I see a small word…
“ME” As I looked at it, I felt joy… Relief…
I felt calm as if I knew all that caused my misery…
I turn to the next page thinking that all I need is written before me!
The next page is blank. I turn the pages…
All blank…
The last page had one sentence written on it…
“Find yourself… Complete you”
I had this spark in my mind…
No! Not my parents, nor society, nor friends… It was me…
As I saw vividly how life unfolded for me like never before. I felt alive again. So powerful. So strong… I could hear it. Feel it. Smell it… The fresh breeze, the sweet smell of daisies and the singing of birds.
I could see the lost life of mine right before my eyes as I stand up and take strong steps towards it… 


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