[𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐋] | 𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐲𝐚

𝟐𝟓 | 𝐈𝐧 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐍𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐚 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐔𝐩 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟

"𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒚, 𝒏𝒐, 𝒐𝒉
𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒕𝒓𝒚 (𝒐𝒐𝒉)
𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚
𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒚, '𝑹𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔, 𝑰'𝒎 𝒕𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅',"

"𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆?
𝑮𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅
𝑮𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅
𝑬𝒖𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒂,"

─────── ∘°❉°∘ ───────

𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩?

I sit here, in the golden field, far away from the wooden house as the girl builds right next to me. She has her back to me but I can see that she is working hard, her hands move as if they have mastered the job of junk building but I cannot focus on her. Not when shiny lights raise from nowhere and fly upwards. They look like snowflakes but they don't fall to the ground which is confusing, how is it possible? Nevertheless, they look like ghosts searching for their souls. Lifeless just like the girl, just like me.

𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩, 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚,

𝙒𝙖𝙨 𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙝.

I've tried touching it countless times but my metal hand only touched the grass and even though I couldn't feel it, I had it in my grip. But the lights are impossible to touch. Like a mist, a fog, a shadow. They exist but aren't touchable. Is that how me and the girl are? We exist, I'm sure we do, but we are untouchable to any living thing outside of this endless world. We exist, we can touch, build, breathe and yet, no one has tried to find us here as if we were ghosts, as if we didn't exist.

The lights swim upwards, where clouds linger in the yellowish sky.

𝙎𝙤 𝙢𝙖𝙮𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙢𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙖 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙙𝙤𝙬.

𝙄𝙛 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙖 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙙𝙤𝙬, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙘𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙚.

𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚, 𝙤𝙧 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙, 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚.

"Done." The girl murmurs, getting up on her naked feet and moving away from my view so that I can see the creation that she created.

She has built a seesaw.

It was built from different parts of junk which made the seesaw look messy with different faded colours but the brown is dominating seeing as the metal was old and rusted. It was always old and rusted and brown metal always doninated everything she has made. Even my body has brown dominating other colors.

"Let's try it." The girl says.

Her voice is soft. It has always been soft and it will stay soft and small for as long as this world doesn't have life.

I don't reply, I can't but the girl picks me up softly nonetheless. She did it in a way a child picks up its toy, carefully and with wonder. "Here," she says.