[InMon] [Picture Press] A Door in a Tree

Portal by Stephen Shulz (http://fracturedphrases.blogspot.com/)

When I look out of the door, I always wonder, what lies beyond those clouds? Where do the birds go? And do balloons float up the sky forever?

But that door, I could never get out of, because I am simply not capable of climbing down the tree by myself. Here in my tree house, I live just like anyone else. I listen to music in my iTouch, play Angry Birds on my iPad and watch Sherlock on my laptop. I am connected to the world, through these fibre optic cables that I wish I could get into. Once, I dreamt I bubbled my way through these cables and ended up at the other side of the world, where wishes were dragons, where commands were unicorns.

Yet now, I am trapped. Yes, I chuckle to myself at the foolishness of my actions. At why I made such a huge blunder when piecing myself together. That now, my heart beats imperfectly, waiting for the Almighty to heal me; oh yes, that has been my prayer since that fateful day. That now, I walk with a stumble, because I accidentally mixed my left and right. I thought I did the right thing, but I was truly wrong. That now, I cannot wield a sword properly, because one of my acupoints is placed slightly too much to the left.

I struggled with the anger I harbour for myself. No, I mean, my previous self. When I was so alright and wholesome. Before I fell and the king’s horses and men charged at me. Before I had to fix myself up, like a jigsaw puzzle. I looked out of that door, wanting to jump out of it, wanting to end my miserable life, so it would be so much better for the rest. You know, I really cannot take the unreasonable orders that come my way. For even a cup of water, I have to run 100 meters to the kitchen and back to the chamber. Why do they not have a water cooler or a kettle beside the royal chamber?

I closed my eyes and imagined myself to be flying, to be free from all these misery. But when I hit the grass, my body fell apart. Bit by bit, I pieced myself back together, fixing together whatever would click. By intense trial and error, I made back a whole new me. Well, not exactly, because I couldn’t run any more nor could I hit a ball properly. My motor skills degraded — yes, not deteriorated – because I just destroyed it. Single-handedly. The first time I walked, I was like a baby trying out its first step. I staggered, and I fell. I tried again and steadied myself by stretching both hands out. Nothing was going right.

The King loves his subjects, so he wouldn’t let me go. Or maybe he wants to make use of me. Or he just enjoys making me a laughing stock for every visitor that visits his kingdom. So he put me in this bubble wrap, that he says is ‘for protection of your fragile body, until it gets better’. But I know, deep inside, it will never. Because I messed it up. Because I was too stupid to jump down the tree to the net below.

Because I couldn’t trust anybody, any more.

Please, pop my bubble.