I feel squeezed. I feel trapped. Oh wait... I am trapped. I look around myself and see a barrier of a sort. I can't quite identify what it is. It looks almost as if it is not really there, but when I try to reach past it, something stops me from going any further. It doesn't really feel hard. Actually, it's soft like one of my friend's hands. I can't seem to place a name on who's hand, though.
I can't really remember how I ended up like this. I didn't notice it before. I know it wasn't here when I was a child, so I guess adulthood created it. But when I reach out again, that belief becomes doubtful. Why is it like this? Why does it mock the feeling of my friends' hands? They're all here, it seems, but just outside of the barrier. I can't reach them. Can they hear me?
"Hey! I'm trapped in here!" I yell out to them. They don't seem to notice. I guess they can't hear me. They'd help me otherwise. Maybe in order to get out, I have to become a child again. How do I do that? Wait, did I ever really grow up? I can't seem to remember anymore. Maybe I should give up. It's not so bad in here.
"Remember when we were kids?" A voice asks me. It wasn't one of my friends' voices. It was familiar but not nearly close enough to one of theirs. I smile and nod to the best of my ability. "What do you remember?"
"I remember being free. I could run about the woods as I pleased. I played with my old childhood friends from dawn to dusk. I hadn't a care in the world." A nostalgic smile spread across my face. It nearly mirrored the smile that I once had on my face at all times when I was younger.
"What has changed?" The voice questions again. I'm not sure what to reply. I hardly noticed the change happen. Maybe? No, that's crazy. "What has changed?" It asks again.
"I got old." I reply. It is the only reply that I could have mustered. It is the truth after all. At least, I think it is. It laughs. Its laugh is childish and actually kind of cute. It brings back memories all of a sudden. The memories of a girl that I had a crush on back in elementary school.
Her name was Sandra. I spent every recess with her. We'd run around the playground in summer, fall, and spring, and build snowmen, snow angels, and anything we could in the winter. We were happy. But then something happened. Her mother got a promotion at her work and in order to take the position she had to move across the country. I was heartbroken. We begged her mother to stay, but she wouldn't listen to us. By the end of elementary school, Sandra moved away. I never saw her again.
A tear forms in my left eye. It escapes it and runs down my cheek. I haven't felt tears in years. It's wet, but strangely warm. It falls from my chin and hits the barrier. Nothing happens. I wait and remember further. More tears fall. I miss her.
Something begins boiling deep within me. "Is that truly the reason?" The voice asks. I shake my head without really noticing. I feel the boiling getting stronger. I begin to shake because of it. "Is that truly the reason?"
"No." I spit out, still attempting to maintain my composure.
"Then what is?" It questions further, forcing me to dive deeper into the cause of my entrapment.
I feel the frustration begin to surface. It's not a frustration of hopelessness, however. It is the frustration that comes when one realizes that he/she has placed himself/himself in that position where they are trapped. The person becomes the jailor. My hands reach out to the barrier and feel it again. My eyes open.
They are holding me here. It is their hands that surround me and trap me. They can hear me. They just choose to ignore me. "My loneliness is the reason as they are empowered by this and thus trap me here."
"Can you break free?"
-Zero
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