A Hastened Response to the Daily Post’s DailyPromptt: Elusive
I misread this prompt when it appeared in my inbox. I thought it was evasive. So that’s what I am going to write on because that is what I came here to write about. Evasion.
Alright, everybody, listen up here. The stage is set and the theatre is packed! Humphrey, run through the checklist one last time. Martha. All set for makeup. Petyr. All the stagehands present? Actors. * counts the actors * What the – ? Where is Erikson!?
I am evasive. I am terribly afraid and evasive. I am petrified of confrontation and people scare the living daylights out of me. How was I so stupid to think that I was capable of putting on that show for people? My gut and my head told me that this wouldn’t end well but I listened to my heart and did it anyway. Now my gut is reeling from the pain of a thousand insects crawling, scraping, gorging out of my insides. Now my head is racing faster than ever before and my heart is nowhere to be found. I don’t know how much longer I can continue like this. All I was ever any good at was running.
I was almost twenty now. I had been running since I learnt to think but I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to keep up this pace. Each and every day, I have to run a little faster. Run a little further. Sleep a little less. Work a little harder. I am juggling the ticking time bomb that is my composure and one day, I will trip and drop this thing. The faster I think, the faster I have to run. The faster I have to run the faster I have to think and the closer it gets to me.
I live a cursed life. My very existence is the centre of that curse and the only way to remove it is to keep on running because that is the only thing I know how to do. Everything else, it’s just an act. It’s just what I want to be. What I am is broken and that is all I ever will be for I will run until the day I die. Which, if you ask me, would be none too soon.
You know what. I have a good brain. And my thoughts are racing faster than my fingers can type these words to you. My chest is in pain and it doesn’t want to raise to allow a fresh breath of air into my soul. My body is tired but my mind says run.
I am exhausted.
Now comes the only time when I can actually rest. When I take a sharp turn and leave the worst broken pieces around the corner. I know I cannot stop. I know that if I stop, it’ll all be over. I want that. I want the end. Yet, I am so gorram petrified of what it will be like that I keep on going. I am noot running now. I am walking. Marching. One, two. Three, four. I need to keep time. I need to carry on. For if I slow down any more than this then it will catch me. If I hurry and dare make a sound then it shall find me. Think oof the most vicious and hungry abomination that you have ever laid eyes on. That is what I am running from. Not just your vision of my anxiety, but everyones. I am on my way back to the stage where I can carry on with the facade. I may not have said so earlier but this was my plan all along. run so fast and so far that nothing can catch you. Then double back so that it can no longer find your scent.
I can breathe again.
Surely one day it will all be over?
That’s it. I know, I’m going back now. I couldn’t deal with the people so I ran and now I have to go back to them. I have to face them because I value my word. I value these people too. I have so many people that depend on me and I am in far too deep. I am drowning and it is all my very own fault. Is that suicide? When one sets it up for his own life to end. I said I’d never go out that way. I shall heed those words as best can but I refuse to make any promises. I can see the theatre door now. There are the people that want to have a word with me. Everyone always thinks that they know best. Even I do. Just a few more steps to go and -. Great, here come the tears. I can try holding them back and keep them at bay, or I can use them to my advantage. Well, it’s not like anyone’s gonna notice. Not with all this rain that we’ve been having.
Just a few more steps now.
Do you remember that downpour earlier? Picture yourself as that broken sky and imagine what it feels like to lose so much of yourself in such a short time. To feel your soul being ripped out of your body while your soul dissipates into nothingness. Why do I have to evade, running from all my fears for all eternity. Why am I built like this? Why can’t I just feel normal?
I have my hand on the door now. All of a sudden, my heart was back but in my throat. I had to open this door. I had to get away from the beast that trailed behind me.