It begins, as it never ended. Has it been days? Has it been months? I don't know. It had creeped in my sleep as the shadows went down and the darkness had cloaked the sky. Nothing is working out. I am afraid to even lie down, for this unfaltering streak of dreams never seems to end. It's a never ending hell every night for me which has started devouring my peace of mind. My hands are getting restless while my thoughts jumbled. When will this havoc stop?
This night which never seems to end. Those teardrops which never seem to stop flowing and those eyes filled with resent which never stop staring at me through that crook in the wall. This wall, which I look at daily, a monotonous routine, sitting in front of it and wondering when it will all end. This same wall which has been painted and repainted, damaged and repaired, still stands in front of me having a disguise of its own.
I have tried to embrace it, hate it, love it, destroy it but still over the years I have never gotten used to it. It stands there as this abyss of darkness which separates me from the world outside. Or so do I believe. Is there even a world outside? There must be. There has to be. My yearning to cross this wall has never stopped. I for just once want to peek at what lies behind this wall. I for just once want to walk past it.
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But it stops me.
It changes. It adapts to what I think so swiftly as if it’s my own shadow. Everyday I try to make past it but it always has enough time to stop me when I always on the other hand seem to run out of that one thing-"Time". I can sense it watching me, though it has no eyes. I can hear it, though it never speaks. A thought tells me that I can never leave for this is the life I chose.
I opened my eyes and I saw the wall. I close my eyes only to see the wall. That's all I have ever and that's all I have ever known. The Wall. But something changed. My dreams which were once as empty as this place where I lay, are now occupied by these voices, those people who look at me with resentment and that feeling, that feeling of death.
AND YET AGAIN the night will arrive and so will the whispers of those figures, the agony and the cries.
The sweet melancholy is heard. The noise of the rebels subsides. The nightmare finally breaks, no more shrieks, no more noise and no more pain.
A bird can be heard chirping at a distance. "What??? A bird!! Surprised, he wakes up as now he is not the only one in this world. The wall is no more there, It's time to step past the wall