Failure

“In a way, I need a change from this burnt out scene,

The girl heard these lyrics and felt the same. She was tired of this place that had seen so many of her crashed failures. Once upon a time, she was a girl full of hopes and dreams. Her vision of the future was sparkling, pastel colored, and happy. Perhaps it still could be. Maybe. Possibly.

The girl once had lofty dreams. Dreams that she felt good about. The sight of others, with their eyes of silent accusation, that screamed, “What happened?” stifled her. Everything stifled her. The trees, the people, the buildings, everything. This scene had seen too much of her failures. Too much.

She was going to cry. The girl was going to cry. She was miserable. The girl felt an overwhelming need to open her mouth and drink the air. It was all her fault.

The girl did not want to hear empty words that said, “You can do it!” with a false sense of blinding optimism. That was what caused this mess in the first place, this can-do attitude with no sense of reality. She failed to see where she stood in this world. She failed to see herself for who she was. She failed to see a lot of things.

Even if the girl escaped, ran away, she would face the same thing. Always. Escape was a coward’s way out of things. She felt sorry for the younger her, the girl who believed in better things. The girl who was innocent and without care.  The girl who she was would laugh at the state she was in now. It was pitiable. It really was.

It was a nice day outside, sun shining, grass green, and birds chirping. The wind blew a little, a tiny voice in the world. They were mocking her, the girl was sure of it. “Look, you deserve it. When we were sad and dreary, you sat in your room, optimistic about your future. Look at what happened. Look,” they said.

The girl cried. She wanted to break out of this stifling place. But it would happen again, this acute sense of failure.

The girl sat in her chair, unsure of how to proceed.