Even the sun hits no ground anymore, the sky is still a pale blue with a faint pink color slowly appearing behind the roof tops. The air is cool, the wind soft as it makes it way through the street, playing with the fresh green leaves and a soft sound emits from them. A cat lazily crosses the street, its collar ringing like a bell. A muffled voice speaks inside a living room, and if you listen closely you can hear music coming from somewhere. A car drives by with a whoosh, leaving the world even more silent after it has left. Summer should be here now, but the feeling that it always brings doesn’t seem to settle in my chest. There’s a child cheering when it sees the green leaves caught inside of me. Still it’s like it doesn’t really reach me. Instead I just walk around, pressure upon my shoulders, weighing me down. I want to feel light, to feel like I could float, but I’m numb. After having carried this heavy load I have been struggling for too long. I can’t feel my fingertips.
Voices call out for me, a rush of light travels through me, but leaves me even darker when it leaves. Like the darkening sky with faint clouds, I wash the light vanish and I wonder what I need to do to make it last a little while longer. A bittersweet feeling lies upon my tongue as my nostrils flare and jaw clench. So many things I have to do, but I do not want to do neither of them. A nauseating feeling bubbles in my stomach and I cover my mouth as my heartbeat quickens, two days passes so fast and I am not ready. I need to do well. I need to do well. A voice whispers about regret and pain and my eyes widen at the sight of me stumbling, of me looking for answers but not being prepared. Of the dawning feeling of looking at the teachers while sitting down in the chair in front of them. They begin to speak before I’ve settled, it sounds promising, but her tone… the tone in her voice. It cannot be? I wonder and she voices the number and I cover the grimace with a lopsided smile. At least it’s over.
But no. I won’t leave the room with a drop of my stomach, I won’t have to try to convince myself that numbers don’t matter no. I will make it and hit the number I want, I want to come out with a relieved smile and yet…
Here I am, not being able to do the simplest things and time is running out. I’ve made it before, I think, but will I make it this time. Oh the anxiousness.
So look ahead, at the gloomy dusking sky, do you see the twinkling stars. So even in the darkest of times, light shines, such an etheral light that brings out wonder and as the majestic moon rises, mysterical and full of cries from people caught in the twilight, crying out to it. A lonely wolf passes the street, its claws clicking on the pavement, while its yellow eyes glows in the shadows. It howls in the darkness outside and I open my eyes wide, peeking out of my dusty window. I want to be that wolf. Strong, even when surrounded by darkness and being lonely, but even stronger with a pack, even wilder as it runs the green hills side by side with family. I want to be a wolf, I want to bring awe to my enemies and rise above my lowly self that cries in the rain.
I want to protect my pack, I want to growl at the danger. A wolf is what I’ll become, no bullet can pierce me and even in death I’ll lash out. Out on the playground I see the wolf, glancing back at me, standing in my illuminated room. A growl leaves it mouth, but I return it, not even faltering my position. Face it straight on, and leave regrets in the deep.
Look ahead, and only glance back.
The paint strokes of clouds are a dark grey, so soft against the dark blue sky, soon it’ll turn navy, soon the sun’ll be gone.
There’s not long before dawn rises once again and heat embraces us with a kind hug, reminding us of summer nights, of laughs and of splashing waves. Of late night walks, only wearing a thin sweater, of crossing limits and of chasing dreams in a moment of courage. Suddenly a week will have passed, and I will glance back and wonder, how could I have feared, how could I have trembled. Now here I am, even taller, and even more ready. I cannot be broken, no bullet can pierce me. Not even one that is fired by me.
And so let 37 hours pass and I’ll have climbed another mountain.
Until the day, I do not longer have to be afraid both awake and asleep.


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