I’m going away, I’m moving. There’s nothing left for me here. The leaves have fallen and won’t grow again anymore. The houses are empty. They remain unchanged. A perfect picture of the precise instant everything changed for the rest of the eternity. I better leave before my memory of how this place used to be becomes even more stained.
I’m already running, trying to reach an uncertain future. The passing trees comfort me by shielding me from my past. At least they keep it out of sight. But I cannot go any faster. Actually, at this pace, I’m closer to going backwards. I cannot move on. The grasp of my past grows stronger the further I go, with every step I take. But it has to break eventually. Either the chains or my neck.
I finally arrived, my fifteenth destination. But the fresh air is already oppressing and the streets are pushing me away. The hammer I need to break these chains in nowhere near. But I cannot stop looking, they have to be somewhere. I’m by the sea now. Maybe crossing it will help, beyond the horizon might lie the answer.
I’m arriving now. Never thought I’d feel so free returning to the place where the leaves don’t grow. The chains are in my backpack, my arms are stronger and my neck is free. In the end, my mind was my own prison and my soul was conspiring with my past. I almost became my own executioner. And willingly. The struggle and the despair. The surrender, the chaos at the bottom of the grave I dug for myself. But, as I lay on the ground, stripping myself from everything to prepare to rest, a hand held me tight and put my feet on the floor. I wouldn’t let myself die so easily.