The Loneliest Fish on the Sea

April 10, 2017
Custom User Avatar
More by this author

I have never studied in my life before. You only study if you have someone to impress. You only study when you have a significant other that you want to think of you as smart, or if you have a teacher who you really want to prove that you are worthy of their time. But I blend in; teachers don’t know my name, the sexual attraction people have for me is as sparse as my confidence. But something, some force possessed my body and compelled me not only to study, but to also go out, leave my made-up world that resided in my house.
See when you live alone, you can play make believe all you want. When no other being exists parallel to your’s, you can live in your own dream world. My house is a ship, drifting aimlessly in the sea in my fantasy land. A ship in the middle of the sea can’t have visitors, no one could swim to it, no boat could find it. Only once I leave the dreamworld am I reminded my actual home is very much visitable, and very much viewable to the outside world.
I parked in the spot directly under a lamppost, so when I came back to my car in the blackness, a light would shine on me so I wouldn’t be completely obliterated by the darkness. My brain, my hands, and my eyes all seemed to be communicating that night. My being has never been able to exert itself until that night. I opened a book and could read it. Not only that, I could even take notes too while doing it.
Two hours later, I found myself tramping through the parking lot, my dinner reward in hand. My thoughts of eating and wave watching out my window were abruptly stopped when I realized how muffled my stomps were against the concrete rubble. I realized anyone could be walking behind me. I also realized that there were no other cars, which meant no one to help me. Naturally, my elephant, stock-like legs picked themselves up in a speed they’ve never seen before. I reached my car right when my heart and my brain had synchronized and I was sure my brain was beating so hard it’d burst a hole through my skull.
My chest decompressed as I reached for my car handle, and my lungs begun to contract regularly again. I hadn’t realized in my trek that my shaking hands dropped my keys, which had fallen under the car. With an embarrassing amount of energy and concentration, I retrieved them. I got up off the tar carpet and set my sights on my houseboat.
And then his arms wrapped around me and forced the air out of my lungs. Before I could scream, I felt the warmth of his arms pressed against my chest. I raised my hands up to his and felt how soft his skin was. Before I could scream for help, I whispered, “Thank you”.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback