She was running late for her appointment as usual, yet she was unfaced, as other pedestrians passed her by in a rush to reach their destination, she walked the streets at her own pace. Today was a working day, and the morning dew a residue of the of the rainy night and the cold morning which had made it difficult to remove the blankets to get to work. “Work” she thought, her military position was relocated to another staff member after her mission report. 

As a result of her mission report, countless interviews were organized with the head of her unit, head of department and psychologists. Finally, she was issued with a “Social security disability” card, under “mental illness”, she was informed that she was “unable to handle her situation”, hence the need for ongoing treatment with a psychologist. “You need treatment to rehabilitate” she recalled what her superior had said, she was deemed unfit to perform her duties, so the military gave her a medal of honor and made her redundant though her position was filled. Now she spent most of her time alone and aloof in her mind somewhat distorted pondering what occurred, although her mission report described it in detail no one believed it, and at times she doubted it as well.

As she walked, she saw men and women strapped in harnesses cleaning windows atop 2000 plus story tall buildings, buildings so tall they reached above the clouds. Countless skyscrapers exceeding 2 kilometers in height, most of the higher floors normally residing above the clouds. “We have reached the heavens . . . but I fear we are actually drawing nearer to hell” she pondered muttering her thoughts as she walked past.

There was no sense of urgency, it simply didn’t matter if she were early or late, the outcome never changed, there was no assistance received at the end of her appointments. Nothing changed, she never felt better, and there was no sense of achievement, just another day with hours ticking, and her youth shedding away. There was a disdain at the existence of herself and everyone else like her, all humans. She knew it was wrong, but she felt tainted regardless, unclean, a dirt no shower could wash away or clean, the apathy of the situation, and the lack of interest at the rest of her life or anyone else’s.

There was once purpose but no more, there was once drive, but it was no longer there, what took place, took everything away and left her empty inside, unable to feel, she fed but felt famished, she slept but did not rest, she pondered but there was never any conclusion. “Mad”, “sick”, “unstable”, she recalled what was said at her experience, whispers her military colleagues uttered when they thought she couldn’t hear, words cutting deeper than knifes leaving no scars, she knew not to let such words wound her so, she knew she should not care about what people thought, yet she couldn’t help how she felt. Demeaning what took place, demeaning what took her friends, how they died, their final moments, she carried memories and moments alone, a baggage so heavy, sometimes she could not get out of bed or move, hadn’t she suffered enough? Some had said her experience was incredible, but everyone kept their distance from her, what they spoke and what they thought were opposites, she had learnt this the hard way. At times she would allow herself to speak, noticing the listener’s eyes raising in shock, panic or even glee, at her incredible experience, why did she make it out? Why did no one else survive except her? It must’ve been luck she made it back, but was it really luck that she survived? or was it tragic that she did? To continue to experience what took place in segments in her mind on her own, alone, so she remained aloof.

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She stopped to wait for the traffic lights to allow pedestrians to walk, a couple holding each other stopped by her side, “a loving embrace” she pondered, then she reflected on her life, 2 men were inside her last night, she had met them at different times, each from a different clubs, one she met in the early evening the other in the late night. Neither one pleased her, sex was usually unfulfilling, and in her loneliness, it was becoming an addiction, seeking a pleasure that was never enough. The comfort of a caring touch, a caring ear, a loving voice, things she hadn’t known for years now, it seemed like another life since she felt joy.

Smiling came so naturally in her youth, it was simply something she did, something she shared, laughter, joy, but all these she shed away while shedding tears.

“I laughed with everyone around me”, she thought to herself,

“with insatiable joy, at parties, at functions, at birthdays, at weddings, at celebrations, even at the queens’ coronation, now I cry alone, in my sleep, at night, during the day, I mourn in the morning, I ponder alone in parks, I remain confused, focusing on what makes no sense, cursing myself, questioning, alone, without comfort, there are no friends around me, my family has forgotten me, I wish I could apologies but I don’t know what I did wrong, I wish I could turn it all back, but it won’t change the fact that nothing is what it seems, we are a race living a lie, I know it, and I truly believe that everyone else knows it too, but they do not want to accept it, nor believe it, or even hear it.”

Morning drew to a close and the sun finally made his mark to bathe her face with his warm touch, and soon after she had reached the clinic of her facilitator. As expected, she had arrived late, she took a seat to wait for her new appointment slot to begin, she had already missed her due slot but the clinic expected her to be late, so they often allowed another spot just for her “Please take a seat love, the doctor will be with you soon”, Cindy the reception lady had the patience of an angel, at times she wondered if talking to Cindy would bring more comfort than talking to Doctor Frank, her psychologist.