The marbles rolled to the floor and slid out of sight. The puzzle is missing pieces. She does not know.
Who I am? What and who and where and why and how am I who I am and what makes me me?
It is dark. She falls to her knees and blindly gropes along the floor for the missing piece. A missing piece. Any missing piece.
Why am I here? What place is there for me in life?
Her fingers touch something. Her heart leaps. Her mind perceives an uncertain piece and hesitates to pick it up.
What is the purpose of life? Of my life? Faced with a choice, which do I choose?
The fingers, quivering, reach out toward the piece, but her mind halts them yet again.
Why me? Why am I faced with a choice now? Why not everyone else? Why me?
There she'll sit. Whether or not she ever picks up the missing pieces or find her lost marbles, I don't know if anyone will know, perhaps not even her.
Average teenager.
ReplyDeleteMay I ask, what brought this on?
ReplyDeleteLife would be the simple answer. Choices, decisions, hope, doubts, just thinking about my future in general.
Delete