Nothing Ahead

Red

That's all I could see, the smoke stung at my eyes and turned the flames that were greedily licking at my house into a haze of orange and yellow. I was finding it hard to breathe, the thick, ashy smoke stung at my lungs and hung inside my throat, blocking off my much needed oxygen. But I didn't mind, in fact, I welcomed the feeling.

A tear ran down my ashy cheek, I wasn't quite sure why I was crying. This world didn't want me anymore, after father passed away it was like I had just disappeared. Everyone I had once cared about avoided me liked the plague. At first I had felt betrayed, it was as if I was a single stain on a white cloth, a single cloud in a perfectly clear sky, a single dead leaf on a tree in full bloom. But I finally understand. I lay to much trust in my "friends", gave them too much of myself with nothing in return. It's quite ironic that I actually was so naive as to believe that they had truly cared about me. I gave and gave and gave, but got nothing in exchange... maybe that's why I feel so empty inside. I gave myself away to a ton of backstabbing, fake friends, who were only there when they needed me, not the other way around. You know what, I finally understand what my father always told me. Being someone your not, then showing your true self, shows the real extent of what someone is willing to accept. He had known right from the start that they hadn't had their hearts in it to begin with.

I had put up walls, faked a smile, faked a personality, faked a life! But it all fell down the moment my father did the same. The moment they saw the real me and how broken I really was they gave up, walked away, told me I wasn't worth fixing... told me I was a lost cause. Maybe I am, maybe that's why I'm sitting here in this blaze with no regrets, ready to end it all... and finally see my father once again.

Looking back I had always gotten mad when my father didn't help me through tough times, but now I see... he had given me every ounce of help I would ever need, but I was to blind to see what was right under my nose. All in all, my father really was a brilliant man, he had the whole world figured out and could have brought whole countries to their knees if he really wanted to. Father just had this way with people, he could bring them in by the hundreds and make them love him, he was an activist, and a damn good one at that. All his peaceful protests had been a hit and I've seen many places change for the better. He had been the modern day Martin Lutheur King Jr. and many people looked up to him and still do. What I now realize as the most brilliant of things he had told me was this; Trust is a token, not a gift. You have to work for it, it is not, and should not be given freely. That is only setting yourself up for a heartbreak.

It's funny that something so simple could be so deep, they were his last words to me as he lay on his death bed as his heart finally gave out, relieving him of his suffering. At least he could die in peace, knowing that he had taught me everything I needed. They were his last words of wisdom and at the time I hadn't payed it much mind and sat it in the back of my mind in my grief stricken state, but now I acknowledge that my dear father was right. He had been trying to shield me from the pain that he too, had went through. Maybe that's why he was able to smile like that I could find if I only looked. Maybe that's why the same small, wistful smile is playing across my own ashy-pale face.

I looked around at the house I have come to know and love in only four short years, somehow I'm sad that it's falling to the ground with me, but that's okay. In the end we all end up the same. Broken and ready for a new life to be given to us where we can roam, free of any worry.

RED

It was my beginning, the only thing I can remember and enow it would be my end, how fitting. The red, familiar flames danced around my now blazing home, they greedily licked up anything and everything that came in their path, and soon that wound be me.

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