Sometimes, I wish I could fly away.

To someplace where I could stay.

A place where I can be happy,

and not worry about the people around me.

Sometimes, I wish I could fly away.

The world has so many paths, leading me "astray"

That's what my parents would say

Sometimes, I wish I could fly away.

Trying to keep the violent thoughts at bay

Good thoughts I try to convey

Hoping the two can meet halfway.

Sometimes, I want to fly away.

My world is different shades of gray.

I constantly feel like I'm stuck at a gateway

Waiting on the positive rays.

Sometimes, I fly away.

Seeing a new place of play

A place I won't be betrayed

A place that never has a rainy day.

Where I can be a happy little runaway.

So I will wait, until the day I can fly away.

"Alright, true story. I was at a summer camp that I have been going to since I was seven. I am a counselor there now, actually. And this eight-year-old girl was sitting all by herself on tournament night. We'll call her Charlie.

"I sat down next to Charlie and struck up a conversation as best I could. Not great at doing it, but I figured I'd be able to find out something about her by asking about her week with which I could then continue a conversation with her.

"After I asked the first few questions, another girl walked up to the table. We'll call her Riley. Riley is ten, maybe. She has been going to the camp for a while now; I'm not quite sure how old she is, though, because, as a male counselor, I don't spend much time with the girls. Without any hesitation, Riley sat down and said, 'Charlie has a crush on Caleb!'

"Charlie furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head to demonstrate the absurdity of the statement. I chuckled to myself. 'What? No,' she said. 'First off, I am WAY too young for that. Second, there's a MASSIVE age gap here. How old are you?' she asked me.

" 'Eighteen,' I replied.

" 'That's a ten year age gap.

" 'Well, you have a crush on Caleb,' Riley said. She continued to tease Charlie a little more before saying, 'Well, I have nine boyfriends!'

"My face dropped and I gave her a quizzical look. 'What? Riley, that's wrong. You can't have nine boyfriends.'

" 'Yes I can! And I do! I have nine boyfriends, and I'm cheating on all of them. I plan on marrying one of them, though. He's cute. He already has a little bit of a mustache, too.'

"I stroked my baby smooth face, still incapable of growing anything, and opened my mouth to protest again. Realizing it was hopeless, I shut my mouth and let her keep talking. Charlie had my back anyways.

" 'Where's your phone?' Riley asked me.

" 'At the bottom of the pond,' I replied.

" 'Wait, seriously?'

" 'Yep.'

" 'No, it's not!'

" 'Yeah, it is. We're going to hold a competition tomorrow to see who can find it. The first person to fish it out is getting a trophy.'

" 'How did it end up in the pond?'

" 'I was swimming, and I left it in my pocket,' I said, getting cocky with how unbelievable I made it sound. No one swims in the ponds anymore.

" 'You went swimming in there!? That's disgusting!'

" 'Yep! I went swimming. An—'

" 'Caleb! Carpetball! Table two!'

" 'Ope, I gotta go.'

"After the carpetball match (in which I destroyed a little girl, made her cry, and felt like a horrible human being. Okay, I didn't 'destroy' her. It came down to the last ball. I said that I was sorry and git a hug, so we're good. It probably helps that I am really close friends with her older sister), I walked up to one of the girl counselors, we'll call her Leslie. I told her about Riley's story and finished with, '...so I just gave up because I figured it was pointless and I was getting nowhere.'

"A few times throughout the night, Riley asked me where my phone was. I just kept telling her that it was at the bottom of the pond. She believed it—or, at the very least, acted as if she did. So I walked up to Leslie later in the night and told her, 'If Riley asks, my phone is at the bottom of the pond, and we are holding a contest tomorrow to see who will find it. The winner gets a trophy.

" 'Okaayyy…'

"Around one in the morning, the counselors were cleaning up before 'counselor-chill time'---the time after the tournament where some counselors choose to stay up and talk until three in the morning. Anyway, it's one, and Leslie walks past me. She stops and says, 'You know why Riley was asking where your phone was, don't you?'

" 'No…' I replied.

"Leslie's face pulled into a cheesy grin. 'Number ten,' she said.

"We started laughing and went about our business. The next day, I was hanging around with my tent, and Leslie walks up and asks if Riley still think that my phone is at the bottom of the pond.

"Now, it's important to note that my phone was in my hand at this time. 'Yep,' I said.

"Troy, another fake name for a kid in my tent, asked, 'Wait, your phone is at the bottom of the pond?'

"I tossed my phone between my hands, then put it up against my ear. 'Yep,' I said.

" 'What!? How did it end up there!?'

" 'Oh, y’know, I went for a swim and I accidentally left it in my pocket.' I took my phone off my ear, examined it, and put it back.

" 'H-how!? That's like—'

"Leslie and I exchanged looks. 'Troy,' I said, pulling my phone off my ear and chuckling. 'My phone is right here.'

"Leslie and I started laughing, and that was the end of that.

"Anyways, thanks for coming out tonight! Pen to the Paper 23 is out now!"

Dry heaving, trembling fingers, the throb of my heartbeats, mini panic attacks from glances strangers give me on the street.

I wonder what they think, if they think my clothes look funny today, if the laughter of the couple in their 20's that passed me a few minutes ago is at how ugly I look.

"What did you say?" The fat shopkeeper asks again, her breath is as unpleasant as ever.

I must look foolish to the other two customers behind me.

"One crate of eggs, milk and bread please"

I heave a sigh of relief as I walk home quickly, keeping my eyes down, I hope I'm walking normally.

I dig out my keys quickly, ignoring the neighbor's two year old waving at me and unlock my door, then lock it again.

I won't be coming out for another week.

This is my routine for the past two months.

I was diagnosed with severe anxiety and depression at 21, my life had been entirely average till I met her.

Who could believe an Angel could befriend me?

With a life where "fun" "fashion" and "friends" were foreign to me, I had rather resigned myself to a life of mediocrity.

Thus when I gained employment at 24 after graduating with a degree in business, my life centered around work, always the first to come and last to leave.

My coworkers were polite enough, but they always talked of plans to hangout and stories later in whispers around me, at least they didn't avoid me.

I was sorting out mails late that night at work when she came in- like I said before, she was an Angel.

Sephiora. Her lips perked and her peach lip gloss shimmered as she pronounced her name slowly for me.

Her tart perfume, the way her leather gown clung to her skin, her faux fur sliding halfway down her shoulders, her careless way of leaning by my office door as she lit a cigarette burns an unforgettable image into my memory.

She was an escort hired by my boss and she had lost her way out.

"I saw the light on and went towards it" she added with a light lisp.

"Always go towards the light was what my grandma used to say" she added with a chuckle, her eyes clouding over for an instant.

I have nothing to live for, I have no motivation, I will exist and die an obscure death. Is always how I thought.

Meeting her changed me, it became our daily routine, she would finish up with my boss and come to meet me.

Karaokes, Japanese restaurants, late night movies became our routine.

We held hands, hugged and laughed, people looked at us wherever we went. I felt seen.

My anxiety faded and I began starting conversations with coworkers, I even got invited to a cookout.

But my joy was short lived.

She didn't show one day, and the next, then it became a week, a week turned to a month then I quit.

I didn't quit. I left and never came back.

Coworkers tried to reach me for a week, I couldn't bear the heartache of the sound of my phone buzzing and it's not Sephiora, I changed my number.

That was foolish, she never had my contact to begin with, I never asked her last name or knew her address.

I don't even think Sephiora is her real name.

I was just too swept up in the thrill of someone finally paying attention to me.

Was it because I confessed my feelings to her?

My anxiety slowly returned, since I had no human contact it grew worse, with my burnout.

My reason to get up in the morning exists no more.

Who was I kidding? What did I expect anyway? I ruined a good thing and will never see her beautiful brown eyes glow again as she laughed at my jokes.

They were delicious. Her eyes I mean.

That was the only part I didn't cook out of reverence to her.

"I'm sorry I can't date girls, much less YOU" she had said that night with a flip of her silky hair and disdain in her voice before I pushed her down, breaking her neck on the deserted street that night.

I couldn't bear for someone special to me, look or talk to me like the others.

I open the deep freezer and take out a frozen manicured hand. Bread and meat with some eggs sound really good right now.

It is sad when I look at my left hand. It’s been nearly five years. The discerning eye can no longer see the imprint my wedding band once made. But my eyes can see the faintest line where it once sat. A love promised for a life time. Cut Short by lack of boundaries. The ring worn smoothness, slowly becoming rough again. Hiding, what once signified love underneath golden brown layers of memories.

I see darkness all around me. Nothing else. Before arriving wherever I am, I had tested positive for Covid, made the applicable phone calls to work and family, then felt really tired after all that. I finally got comfortable and fell asleep, so this must be a dream.

I continued walking through the pitch black area, wondering why I couldn't have more interesting surroundings, since this was a dream after all. Wait, maybe I could! I thought about a nice tropical beach, a lawn chair, a good book, maybe a cup of coffee to go with it. Yeah, maybe coffee wouldn't be the best drink for a beach vacation, but what can I say - I love my coffee!

Still nothing. OK then, this isn't very relaxing. Time to get out of here. I pinched my arm. Nothing. I yelled "Wake up dude!" Still nothing. I punched myself in the chest. Owwwww.... really bad idea. Why couldn't I just wake up?

"Light's out for you, and for all of your characters!" A raspy voice said behind me. I turned around and finally observed some color - a red cloak obscured figure.

"Who are you, and where are we?" I asked.

"My identity doesn't matter. I am one of your newest characters, but this will be my first and only story of yours."

"Story? Is this world based on my writing?"

"Correct Roses311Sublime. I am simply fodder for your hero characters, in a Pen To The Paper one shot no less. But should I dispose of you, you won't be able to off me in your story."

"But if you do that, won't you just be stuck in darkness forever?"

"You may be right. Very well, I demand that you give me a better ending now. Let me defeat whoever my opponent is."

"Thanks for stalling him Roses!" A gleeful feminine voice called out. A mage in a hooded cloak, full body armor, and spiked wrist and ankle bands appeared above us. She smacked the red hooded foe with her staff as she landed, knocking him to the ground. She then pointed at the downed figure with a glowing finger, and the cloak completely absorbed him as he screamed. She then shot a fireball out of her finger, burning the cloak to ashes.

"Tanya Balencia?" I asked incredulously. "What are you doing in my dream?"

"Who knows? This may not even be a dream. I'm the last character you wrote a story about, so maybe that's why I'm here. All I know is, there are two hooded goons that trapped you here. I just killed one of them, but someone else will have to deal with the other."

"Someone else? Who Tanya?"

"Some characters that haven't had a story of their own for a while. Go to them, and seek their help...."

Everything then grew so dark that I was no longer able to see Tanya.

*****

I came to in my living room. Had I woken up? The last I remember, I had laid down in my bed. Did I sleep walk?

Before I could figure out something else to do, the TV turned on. A blue hooded figure came out of the screen, laughing as he grabbed my neck.

"I'm the second figure of this world that exists in your stories!" The figure said in a squeaky, but no less threatening tone than the red cloaked figure that came before. "I don't want to die, so I will kill you, and play your video games in this makeshift version of your living room!"

"Please.... don't...." I said weakly, as things began getting as dark as the last location. The figure's grip suddenly loosened, and I was able to see three others behind him. Two men with glowing blue fists were there, along with a young woman holding a sword.

"Kalen, Sylvan, and Ikari?" I asked excitedly. "Thank God you're here!"

"Yes, we were sent by Him to rescue you." Kalen said kindly, before addressing the blue cloaked figure. "Friend, it is ok to be afraid of the unknown. But hurting someone to alter the outcome is not the way. Please stand down, and we can talk this out."

"Yeah, these are characters from a Christian fantasy story I started a while ago." I assured the blue hooded figure. "They definitely won't hurt you, they will just minister to you and offer you a better life direction to take."

"Well then, I guess I was lucky to be here instead of the world my brother was in. Thank you for sparing me. I apologize for attacking you. This is your story, so choose your fate for me Roses311Sublime."

"Why don't you guys play some video games?" I offered. "I'm going to take a nap before I go back to my world. And once I feel a little better from this Covid, I will work on writing some more stories, including a new canon one for Kalen, Slyvan and Ikari."

"Thank you sir." Slyvan said gratefully. "I have much to do as far as saving those affected by my curse."

"Get some rest." Ikari smiled. "When you are ready to continue our adventures, we will be there, waiting for you."

"Take as long as you need." The blue hooded figure said kindly as I drifted to sleep on the couch. "Once you have had your fill of sleep, we will send you back to the real world. This is the world you created in your mind, so feel free to stay here and relax as long as you need."

*****

Shameless self-promotions:

Tanya Balencia's adventures can be read here: https://theprose.com/book/3456/magical-mercenary-rated-mature

Kalen, Slyvan and Ikari will return here:

https://theprose.com/book/3369/the-testimonials-a-christian-inspired-fantasy-story

The sun shines in on my legs in the coffee shop I am sitting in and I feel the weight of who I used to be between my ears. My brain short circuits to old selves and the mistakes made.

What is sexy about becoming what someone else wants?

I don't want to become someone else for someone else. What's the point in being me if I act like it's Halloween all year round? I can't run from me, because I'm always there.

I always thought this was a curse. Now I know it is a blessing, because that means redemption is possible and changing my choices is always just that: my choice.

*I was listening to the song "3 Nights" by Dominic Fike and these lyrics stuck out to me as I saw this challenge.*

Do you remember that day? That day in your life when everything changed? The day when buttercups turned to mulch, and steak turned to roadkill, and warm turned to cold but you didn't much care because you couldn't feel it anymore? The day when you woke up a child but felt you were an adult? The day your parents put you down and never picked you up again? The day when everyone around you kept on going as if everything was normal, everything was fine, but it wasn't? The day when rainbows grew tired of color, and the sun decided it rather liked the night-time. The day when you turn left instead of right, and you know that's not where you should go but you want to anyway; if not a destination then an ending. The day you know your mother will cry, but you turn anyway? The day when everything lets loose on you, and you couldn't control your own thoughts? The day when you see the car coming, but you keep going? The day when you know that you should stop, but your hands move for you? The day you want to never ever go home? The day you broke your family's hearts? The day you wrecked your own? The day you thought would never come, but did?

Do you remember that moment? That moment when everything made sense, yet was completely foreign? That moment when you made eye contact and saw the shock that changed your life? The moment when you realized they were alive too? The moment you regretted everything you had ever done? The moment you felt two worlds collide, annihilating each other? The moment a cacophony raged, but you felt in total silence? The moment when everything goes slow motion, and you get to watch every millisecond of your mistake go by? The moment you remembered buttercups and candy grams? The moment you thought of how your brother would always wash your dish? The moment you remembered all the tiny wonders of the earth? The moment you realize that someone was always there for you? The moment glass shattered and metal bent? The moment when your whole life was crashing down, but you were bringing someone else down with you? The moment you realized that person has a family? The moment you imagine everyone they will leave behind because of you? That moment when you changed lives and broke hearts? The moment you ended life and didn't shed a tear? The moment you wanted to live so badly it hurt? The moment you wished you had known how precious your life was before you abandoned it? The moment you wish you never wanted?

...Because I remember mine.

By putting the pen to paper,

I wonder if that's an error.

What if someone reads my journal

and thinks that I am abnormal.

All the suppression of my thoughts

have lead to moments when I've fought -

Bloody noses, bruises, broken skin.

It's enough to assume, I love sin.

Standing there, oh, so judgemental,

I think that you are the mental.

You forget, I know your secrets,

that your conscience is defeated.

But if I should dare to mention

you come at me - mal-intentions

Bloody noses, bruises, broken skin.

It's enough to assume, I love sin.

How do I break this damn cycle,

when I get hit with the bible?

It's a no+win situation

that requires much contemplation.

Do I give in to the struggle?

Determination is doubled!

Bloody noses, bruises, broken skin.

It's enough to assume, I love sin.

I hear ticking, the big standing clock in the hallway making an insane noise, I can not cope with it. It is loud, i can hear it everywhere in the house.

Tick-tack, tick-tack.

Ok, maybe I will just get up from the desk, starch my back and walk around a bit in the house.

I turned on the radio, but doesnt matter what music is on, i can still hear the clock.

TICK-TACK... TICK... TACK...

Ohh God help me. I can't focus like this.

Dear reader, please tell the truth, how annoying is a big, antique, standing clock's ticking? It is obvious, Time standing there next to the clock, Death just on the other side and they counting my time back.

Every second, when the clock makes a noise, i want to jump up from my desk, run out to the shed and get the axe.

It would be such a joy, to destroy this clock and see Time's devastated face and Death anger. I am hopeless, just sitting here, every day, day by day and I never had the gut to get rid of this clock, as it used to belong to my great grandfather.

I was always scared of him, even now after his death, he has a power on me.

Fine, I have one solution left, the clock will stay here and I will move out.