After the fall.. Everything seemed so vague, to say. Slowly the remains of the tattered past that I once knew of joyous experiences, and newly found grace had vanished. My feet, bruised and stained by the ruins of the Auction Hall's splintered tiles. But what exactly was planned to occur if the doves hadn't stormed and retrieved? Why did this place.. So vacant and ruined, feel so bright? I sat in my own little room, pipes hanging loosely above my head, twisted and churned from constant pressure. I'd hear the occasional droplet of water splatter the floor.. But what does that matter? I am alone, netherless, lost. But I decided I should move forward, eventually I may find what I was meant to do. In this hollow world that I've created for myself.
As someone new, but still yet so similar. I used to imagine long walks along the beach with my mother, sweet laughter and praise filling my ears. But of course, that never happend. The scuttling memories of her disappearance cross my mind. I was atleast fourteen when she was listed as a missing person. My father went quickly into rehabilitation, but it took a darker effect than an improving one. He went into major depression, never leaving that plaid couch that used to be cornered in every nook and cranny with love and precious family memories. But now, it's just a stained old plaid couch laying somewhere in a battered basement, slowly rotting away. She wasn't found, but a funeral service was held anyway. I attended with my brothers, my father refusing to go because her death was not confirmed. We sung simple hymns, and laid flowers against the marble tombstone made especially for her. A request for an old friend of mine from grade school, you could say.
But I know deep down her disappearance wasn't an accident, but I push it out of my mind every time.
Though those memories loom over me like acidic spider webs burning my skin and flesh, I will move on.
and find my way to reword my world.