A Cursed Life. By CpSingleton © 2012
I woke up, back then, blind and starving. Though, I didn’t know it at first, my parent had given me life within a valley of glorious sustenance. The stench and the heat of the day had combined to thrill my senses.
I pulled myself into the rancid sweetness of breakfast…I ate until lunch and then carried on until I’d eaten my way through every meal of the day, feeling nauseated by the last bite.
I then ate more to get through that feeling.
Later, as I laid back, skin ready to split apart, I ruminated on the thought that my parent should’ve been there to keep me right; to teach me; to guide me; to at least given me a name. However, flyaway parentage was all the norm back then.
Therefore, the time between my childhood and my adolescence was spent consoling my pain with food.
I ate: I grew.
And I grew.
I was barely recognisable from my younger self, by the time I reached my late teens.
Food became scarce, so I spread my wings.
I had forged no warm attachments with the parasites who foraged and fought with and around me, therefore, without any tearful goodbyes, or any good luck hugs, off I flew, into a dark world of danger and threats.
You see, life is difficult for the likes of me.
I feel that I am nothing more than an irritant to anyone I pass. Faces contort in screams of hatred as their huge house-sized hands swipe me from their lives.
My freedom carries no joy. It isn’t very long before my self-esteem plummets so low that I will need a shovel to un-earth it. I buzz, with a heavy heart from unhappiness to despair.
Food isn’t a comfort to me anymore. It’s just a means of passing from one horrific second to the next.
My head beats with the tears I’ve lost, though I don’t suppose my diet helps my dark moods. I can literally say that I eat shit.
During this last, gut-wrenching day I have been swiped at and snapped at by both men and women. I was chased, sharp teeth gnashing, by one dog, two cats and a bat. I also narrowly avoided being twanged at by a child with a laggy band. A child, for god’s sake!! Aren’t they supposed to be the epitome of human kindness?
I can’t take anymore. This cold Earth isn’t for me. There must be a warmer hereafter. A place where I can rise into the air with a smile upon my face. A home where kind words have replaced anger and fear.
I can see the blue car hurtling towards me.
I have time to move, but where would I go? This world sings no lullabies for me. I don’t suppose I felt it ever did.
My last chance to move comes and goes with…
Carl Mitchell was a guy who became irritated at the tiniest things, such as the blood spot that had suddenly appeared in the centre of his windscreen.
‘Stupid, bloody flies!’ he groaned out-loud, before washing clean the spatter as he hurtled home after a long week in the office.