The whole place makes me have sweaty hands, makes my heart beat as if I were a lion's prey. It makes my body feel foreign, as if it doesn't belong to me but belongs to that place.
Even the scent follows me everywhere in perfumes, foods, or the smell of rotten sewage. Haunting my brain so much that I have to take medicine just to forget. But even then, it still haunts me, salty liquid filling my hands and making me shake.
The sound of voices is pooling in my head as my chest pains with anxiety. Can't even stand straight, forcing the thoughts in my head into a jar to make it through the day. Still, it leaks like a broken faucet, barely coming out of the spout. Making me press my teeth firmly to my flesh, and digging into it for some sort of comfort.
Trickles of light spider lily dripping from my chin as thin twigs run their way through my hair, reminisces of the past pushing its way back into my life as leaves fall from the trees. Pieces of summer, fall, and winter bring me back to the days of fresh spring. The simple school days when work was simple fun, and stress was only temporary. Days of worry-free seasons and food prepared for more learning.
But little did we know the sky was changing colors, and the bustling cities were becoming polluted. The simple days were just a distraction from what was to come, and the worst days were ahead. Burning pain washes over us all as even greed becomes a luxury.
Food is a prized possession as our world fights for the top, the unreachable top that the worthy are born to, keeping it from the poor. Nails thinning and skin aging with each passing day as the aches of life fill the spine faster than nutrients can. Poison sinks through the pores as our days of youth become dreams, heavy with memory and saddened in heart.
Regrets become wishes, and wishes become the fantasy we will never attain because, for so many years, they fed us the illusion of sweet treats. Only to realize all the cavities we have later, and the fact that the sugar had no real substance. Yet the urge for the very grain was more craveable as the years went by, for it was the only shared memory of childhood that kept us grounded.
The feeling of temporary safety that kept our minds intact until the time came when it no longer could hold the false truth. Crashing our hold on sanity and letting it free-fall into our lives, holding onto anything that could remind us where we are. The simple warmth of the fire as the snow fights to put it out. Our hands are shaking from the heat, but also begging for it to stay, since so much has been taken from us. Our childhood friends moved on and were never really there. We thought they were, but in truth, it was all part of the illusion, though a part of them is buried in our skin. The other part is lost within some part of the world, never to be found again.
Leaving us with the forced hand of the workplace, the unfair treatment, and the suffering that makes it start all over again with the torture, the smell, and most importantly, the sweat.
The salty liquid that comes with the intense boiling heat of anger, impatience, and forcing oneself to be okay despite not being. The aches, hives, and hunger for something better, something great. Some sort of purpose, that you're worthy, meant for something more than just a worker ant. Something that would cool the emptiness in your heart and bring peace to our small existence.
So, we strive and strive and hope, praying that obedience is enough, that settling will get some sort of reward, but will it? Will being content pay off in the end, or should you have kept your dreams closer than you imagined? For good times only come far, and few, and loved ones must be cherished with the limited time that we have on this earth.
Bodies are prone to sickness, some more than others, and the world seems to be in devolution. Forgetting to care for our wounded and instead putting them in a crossroad, a road between the silence and the active. As our voice tries to be shunned all over again, as to what happened in the years previous. Standing up for what is right becomes an enemy of consquences seeming to reward the wrong more than the good. Evil is pushing past the depths of hell and poking through the surface. Dirty nails digging into the concrete and spreading their tainted blood all over the ground. Targeting both the active and silent, for anyone not part of their side will be run over or destroyed.
The real world favors the powerful, and only through sheer luck will they face the consequences of their actions as well. They might seem immune at the time, but even the evil will fall to the light. For the sun brings promise, and hell will bring its prisoners back, even if it takes a century to do it.
"It is my honor. I will just borrow my daughter for a bit; she will meet you both upstairs. I'll have someone to escort you both." My mother stated, showing the way to the door, as the twins nodded and exited.
She then turned to me and clapped her hands together, "Been too long since we got to the main story, hasn't it, Victoria?"
"Pardon, Mother?" She threw her hands in the air, "A conversation, Victoria, don't act smart with me, it's close to dinner."
I put my hands together and clear my throat, "I know, Mother, will it just be you and I, again?"
"No, it's why I wanted to pull you aside. Is your arm feeling better?"
I rubbed the wound and took a deep breath, "It's better than before, doesn't show a bruise or anything." Not like she really cares, it's all for appearances anyway.