вторник, 1 март 2011 г.

Little prologe

There was a wall.
It was built a long time ago. It was a plain colourless wall with a locked door (the door always had a key) and a small window with plain curtains. The someone behind that door was always alone, unimagenable afraid of the world, a child that could not express itself with proper words, a very good and quet girl whom everyone loved, for her politness and mature attitude. That child was missuderstood, she was hiding behind those plain curtains, and sometimes alone as she was, she started starring at the window. Peeking outside. Her eyes would hurt from the brightness not being able to differ the shadows outside , her ears filling with noises, her mind becoming blank. She was always a good girl, no one could complain, always being looked up to, always alone, because she was different. She didn't meant to be this akward, but she was, and thus she was alone.
She began to dream. For a long, long time. The dreams became to float in the air suffocating her. She dreamt that someone might try to break in, someone might try to barge in her world or climb up the wall...And she waited, she waited and kept on dreaming, waited and kept on suffocating and drowning with the heavy air around her. But no one came.
And one day after the notingness, there was a knock. On the window. So silent that she almost missed it. And she opened the curtains. And the brightness came to life. A smile. A very big one. Bluish-greenish eyes. Ginger hair. And a smile.
The child was speechless, stunned, amaized. But still afraid. In a little while the window became to open, the heavy air startet to disappear, leaving behind fresh sweet brezze. Again and again almost to an annoing degree that ginger came and went leaving a confused feelling, making the girl frustrated and maybe happy.
The sun didn't burn her, the noises became voices, the shadows people. The world started to shade. The wall wasn't colourless but blue, the curtains white. The girl became alive. But was still a bit unsure, a bit confused, a bit afraid and lonely.
Knock-knock on the door, little by little the roon was filled with life- ginger, blond, brown, black, green and black. A variety of colours begin to gather. Frendly voices like melodies filled the air and dreams became reality. One by one people came in, but the child was still afraid. Only opening the door without stepping outside.
People knew her world but she didn't know theirs, and she was sad, sad for her own cowardnes and foollishnesss.
In time her fear became strenght, she was brave enough to leave the room. Making her own little steps into the big world. And trust me, sometimes she gets lost, and very sad, and very lonely, and very afraid, and very cold. But she learnes how to smile, even though she still keeps the key to that locked door. And only in times or so she comes back, but she keeps the door unlocked and the window open.
So you're welcomed, you always were, you always will be.

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