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Free Me
Free Me
On the day after yesterday, and the day before tomorrow, the aggressively vigorous State of Mind remains accomplished in its consistent and careful agenda. The mother wearing white stands next to her child wearing white, and the both of them wonder what a horrible world it would be to live in if everyone was different. Despite their artificially fed impeccable thoughts, what the two of them perceive of the world around them differentiate to a point of suiting their limited and vague desires. The child sees a rainbow with the most vibrant colors, and without a trace of white. The mother sees angels with glistening halos and good intentions.
“The angels will save us, my child.” she softly speaks.
The sunshine has been gone for 3 days. Each day it has been gone, the State Of Mind is down another person wearing white, that turns to gray, and then turns to black. Mother Terry, the sunshine queen, with white yellow hair that reaches the ground, says that her time as a queen has run out. On the fourth day she was never seen again. Every plausible reasoning for why the sunshine queen would make such an abrupt departure has been stirred up in everyone’s artificially fed impeccable thoughts, yet closure can’t seem to be found. Now each citizen who once saw rainbows sees rainclouds, and those who once saw angels see the demons. Oh what an awful thing, to live in a world full of demons. To see the angels fly into the ground, and to watch their wings turn into horns. The people who wear gray like to say that the demons are tiny and convincing. Those who say that, soon wear black like the others. The neighbor boy who lives down the road, and wears a single black pin on his pristine white collar, says that there used to be a world where the sunshine was found within the heart and the mind. Preposterous! How can that be? A world of difference and independence would be madness! Chaotic remedies that forseek the good AND the evil out of everyone.
The neighbor boy cries on a full moon to the sound of the sirens that strive to spread lucidity to those who see the demons that come out at night to play. Yet he does not receive lucidity for he is transparent to the tactics that the Fighters have attempted amongst the citizens. “I am afraid I love living too much, and I am invisible to those who can only see . ” the boy slowly speaks.
The Fulfillment Fighters have been searching for the sunshine and a better life for as long as the mother and the child have been in their homes looking for rainbows and angels outside their windows. All that seems to remain of the State of Mind is a vast and empty dusty ground that lingers in a thick green haze. The inhabitants walk around with their empty heads down and their empty eyes in a permanent blank stare that burns a hole. Where there once was a flame there is now ash. Ashes upon ashes. A mere spark of life is now a mere black nothing. There is a sense of familiarity to the neighbor boy who says that this very terrible environment has changed not to his knowledge since the sunshine left. To him this was normalcy. His mind is eternally doomed to this heaven full of devils. He says that the devils never left. Members from all four corners of Adamont come to support State of Mind and attempt to mend it out of it’s state of terror. These carnivorous leeches have a hunger for a better life. The unbalanced and uncomfortable members from all four corners of Adamont cut the halves in half to have a whole. Eccentric courage is distributed and it is highly recommended. But the mother and the child have given up on their rainbows and angels and the unwavering neighbor boy spends most of his days alone. On the 18th day the Fulfillment Fighters claim to have found a source of sunshine. Oh, what brave and determined men they are. Under the bridge, the men have found a bright faintly familiar yellow light. Torn and taped and emaciated, yet it was something. A sliver of hope that had been lost for 18 days. Alas, it is lost again, for it is just a false alarm. The sunshine seemed to be of another’s possession. Someone else’s. One had never heard of such thing as deliberately getting rid of the fragile and widely desired happiness. On it’s tainted yellow surface it read “FREE ME” and it had a single black pin right next to the words written so illegibly. “We are already free.” says the oblivious and limited Fighters, and they went on their way again to search for more of the covert sunshine. On the day after yesterday and the day before tomorrow the State of mind remains unaccomplished in it’s inconsistent and careful empty hell. The mother and the child have disappeared in black, and the neighbor boy is free.
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I am incredibly inspired by Ray Bradbury's short stories. I like the idea of dehumanzing the human race and stripping us down into just our core. The way he writes his shorts into a message has been my inspiration for all my peices.