Of Forgotten Fairytales by Kendecia

I am not there, where I want to be. Instead I am stuck looking at it from the other side of the window. My past, a mere dot in the midst of jagged lines which define my life; sits on the other side. I stand on the crispy snow, trying to draw in the warmth from the years of past contentment; and to dispel the incessant chill of the dull life that I now live.

I lean against this house of memories for comfort that I cannot find anywhere else. I always come here at night, when there is no one around; when they are all asleep and my memories stir to full wakefulness. My life, all those years ago, was magical. Everything went the way I had wanted. All the pieces had fallen into place as planned, as if it were all written in some book just waiting to be played out. And now, everything just seems out of place; like pages have been torn and words distorted into unfamiliar smudges. It is like this book had been borrowed and later stolen. My entire existence has been shredded and recycled into the abysmal pit that it is now. Delicate shapes and swirls tangle and stretch into those jagged lines which now define this life of mine.

The hitches of my shoulders can never be regarded as the careless laugh I once had; the watering of my eyes can never be interpreted as the result of that once joyous sound. No more can the smiles on my face be called genuine but only a cynical twisting of my lips that they all see. What I am now is merely a dark shadow left behind by the real figure; abandoned to the chill that rests outside its window to mourn its loss.

The flame in the fireplace dims and the cold is beginning to tear into my skin. My gloveless fingers are numb. The memories are fading away into the creeping darkness. Bit by bit it is devoured by this shadow that stands just outside its window. Little by little, piece by painful piece; it all disappears into the abyss and forgotten by all who know it so little. Like a fairytale, my life has been brought to everyone’s attention; but only to be forgotten as the years race on.