The Unfortunate (part 2)
The city is awash in blues & greens & with no discernible source, you begin to feel as if every synapse has been cut off from the rest of your brain.
You know not to enjoy this too much, but you can't help it, even if it's a hallucination, it might never happen again, so you breathe & smile.
'Have you ever thought about the randomness of life?,' she asks, 'you know?, how things seem to happen for no reason, but not really? As if, there is a reason, but it's hidden, or it's a riddle. Like you have to work for the answer because it's important.'
'& if there is no answer?'
Her brisk step slows a beat.
'That would be sad.'
The thought of her feeling sad makes you rethink the idea.
'I don't mean that in a life is pointless kind of way. I just mean, why fuss so much over finding an answer? Why even ask the question? Maybe there's something to be said about things not having any particular purpose or order. That's what makes life interesting sometimes; the fact that it's not always the same things that happen, or the fact that anything can change at any time. It's a bit scary that way, yeah. But at least it's not boring.'
She stops walking & laughs so much you're convinced one of you is crazy.
'It's just a stupid thought,' she says, 'you do think too much.'
She fully collects herself & continues walking & talking.
'I actually don't really care why we're all here or if there is a point. I enjoy it sometimes, sometimes I hate it. It's inspiring sometimes, sometimes it's trivial. I don't think it should be any other way.'
You ruminate on her words, but try not to over ruminate.
'Do you think we'll ever know why? Or find out if there is a why?'
It occurs to you that her hand was still clasped to yours when she lets go of it in that moment.
'I've never been in love,' Vianne says again, this time without the somber tone, 'not because I've never found anyone to love, but I think, because I don't want to be in love with anyone. Does that make sense? It's like what you said about the same things happening. Most people have roughly the same fairy tale fantasy that they want their life to be. They want the same things; money, love, admiration.
Some want fame or want to learn about the world, go everywhere, do everything. I don't even want to know why I'm here. I feel like if I find out, it'll kill the illusion. If someone that was good at card tricks told you how they did it, it wouldn't be as fun to watch, right?'
'Depends, I guess.'
'On what? Whether you believed in magic or not?'
'No. On whether you wanted to know the answer or not.'
You feel like you've been waiting for this moment forever; since high school, since puberty, since birth-that moment that defines life.
'What are we doing here?'
You ask the question despite already knowing the answer. But you need to hear it from her because you can't bring yourself to admit it.
'We're here for you to find out why.'
As you look down over the railing, you smile with tears blurring your vision.
'It's what you wanted, right?,' she asks, 'to know why?'
'Not why exactly, but to what end? I mean, what's the point in learning the trick behind the magic if I don't believe in it? But I'm in the audience anyway & I have to watch & the tricks keep coming & I just don't care.'
'So is this your way of walking out?'
'It's my way of not taking part of something I never had a choice in to begin with. Life wasn't my choice, but this is.'
'Life is a choice; you choose how you live it, you make the decisions that dictate what you get out of it.'
'But you can't choose who you are. What happens when you don't like that part?'
She looks over the edge, searching the treetops & the darkness that surrounds them. The singing of the cicadas swells & you wonder if they already know the answer.
'Some things in life are unfortunate, that's why we feel pity. We can't help when someone feels sorry for us, but to feel sorry for ourselves, that accomplishes nothing.'
You're angry now, frustrated, you feel a black hole forming in the center of your soul.
'So what are we unfortunates supposed to do if not give up?'
Vianne takes my hand & pulls me up on the railing & her eyes are on me, the smoky green of them comforting me like no mother could.
'Laugh,' she suddenly says, almost demanding, 'that's what you do; laugh, cry, scream, breathe. Smile. Do what makes you feel alive, as long it's something. This...'
Her eyes move to the abyss below us.
'This is nothing. This is not having a choice. If you want to know the easiest way to be happy with who you are; make someone else happy. & you can start with me. So choose.'
She raises her hand up to my face & with two fingers, closes my eyes.
'Choose which one of us will get what they want.'
@ellowrites #short story #contemplation