The Next Day

I awoke early the next morning, feeling no amount of rest from the previous night. I had stayed up some time crying to myself. Once again I felt weak, useless, and much like dead weight. I don't know if I had suppressed those memories in my mystery life, but seeing it now did not help me at all. I knew what I had to do, even if all this that I see is a lie, or even if what I look back on and call 'memories' are lies. One world was always what existed. Now there was a slight twist to that. One world exists, and it's called me and my life.

I left the inn a bit shaky, not sure how or where to accomplish my goal. I wasn't even sure if I could achieve what I desired here, but I had to try. What I recollected, and what my mind fantasized, left me devoted to reclaim what had been stolen from me. Whether it was my fault or not, I need to go back in time. "Turn it back; just turn it around," I tell myself "I need to do this. Besides, I need something to do now that I'm. . . here." I still don't know where 'here' is, but it doesn't matter to me. Not yet anyhow.

I walk out into the Trading District, looking around. Already people are starting to run errands and purchase items they want. Some people wear armor and carry weapons that appear to be rather powerful, running from auctions to banks, and then flying away on different kinds of mounts. Others, in elegant or plain dress, walk to flower stores or jewelcrafters, looking for items of beauty, seeking the praise and attention of others. Some look for breakfast at bread stores or fruit stands. General stores offer a steady flow of customers and merchants selling and buying goods.

I look around me, trying to absorb it all, but mostly looking for something to stand out. I wander around the city, still unsure what will aid me. A bridge crosses over a canal of water, leading to a different district. The Trading District held nothing, but what could these other ones offer? I walk around a more residential area, admiring the architectural finesse, but no matter where I look nothing offers the slightest hope off emotional reprieve. The large man, who would probably stand a foot taller than me now, was right about one thing. Left alone, I would cry myself to death with no help. People pass by, and I have no way to tell them I am alone and dying.

I don't stop searching however. Determination burns inside, but I still don't know what I need to find. A child darts outside his house bumping into me, and calling back "Sorry, lady!" I don't know what has him in a hurry, but I decide to follow him. I walk at first, but slowly increase speed, keeping distance between him and I, not letting him out of my sights. He stops at a stand, that, unlike all others, stands out with the most color, but it feels humble. I approach it slowly, excitedly.

I arrive at the stand, the vendor smiling brightly. "Take a look!" he tells me with enthusiasm that breaks my darkness. I smile and nod. I lean over the small shelf that holds the items he is selling, and there I see it what I have been missing. A solution to my problem. The boy looks up towards me, waves, and runs away holding his prize.

They weren't as I remembered. At home they came in limited color, all sorts of very randomized designated lengths, and came in large crates, so one would have to search for the perfect one to fit their needs, and it may not be there. But here, oh here, they came uniform, each the same length with a defined point and all in a box. Some had six in a box, others had every color the very world and more could offer. I purchased some, a box with twelve colors, with some paper. I never grew up; I was a grown up from the start. Without a sense of purpose now, I'll start to turn back the clock. . .

I sprinted towards the inn, fluidly moving around, over, under and between any person or obstacle in front of me. I ran up to my room, shut the door, and locked it, although I had no reason to. I pulled out the chair and sat down in it with such haste that I fell completely over, letting out a cry of surprise. I picked myself up, and opened my box. I always saw these as a child, but was never permitted to buy them, and I didn't risk stealing them, although I had no objection to stealing anything.

I didn't know where to start, so I started drawing random shapes with different colors and sizes, until I decided on what to draw. It would be my life. At first it started alright. Me as a child, the man, food. But I felt bereft of my joy. These things did not deserve my time nor attention. "Alright then, I will just draw my life again," I said to myself. "I will draw MY life. No more memories, because I'm here now."

That was when I decided to move on. I'm not sure if I held onto that part of my past, but from now on, I will not be weak. I am no longer dead weight, because I'm no longer dead. This is my new world, at least for now. And so for now, this is my new life. This is my new life. This is my new life!