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  • Writer's pictureJames Kidac

the Fallen

curtains of despondent eyelids closed shut and with that, a boy with closed eyes felt weightless and helplessness. "bam!" The back of the skull got a blow that knocked the life out of him. Surprised by the feeling of euphoria instead of good old pain, the boy got up immediately, but he felt no obligations to fulfill, unlike a moment ago when he was being undone by a cocktail of lack of sleep and fever and a bout of flu. Getting up, he felt no pain at the back of his head, nor the weak limbs that could barely hold him. He felt normal, just not normal enough. He looked back with a thick haze in his thoughts, only to see the other him lying on the ground, motionless, blood puddles forming around his cracked norgent. Concerned by this quirky sight that never he thought was possible, he reached out for the unconscious him, but he never got to touch the physical him on the ground. It seemed that relative distance had separated them worlds apart and now they reject one another. Death was a consequence that stung his heart, but he paid no attention to it. Instead, he thought of happenings that could explain the quirk going on. Perhaps he was sleeping in his house, having this really horrible nightmare that some dude crocked up. Perhaps he was just knocked out. Either ways, he couldn't wake up from his fantasy world, but somehow it worried him less than he thought it would. In fact, he liked to feel no pain. No obligations. No responsibilities. No datelines. No boundaries.

#Personalblog #2009

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