Writer's Block

I found myself one morning trapped in a world cast in shades of blacks, whites, and greys, void of all colour and drowning in a heavy mist.
 
Through the power of imagination I had seen many realms of existence in my short lifetime but this world was not one I was at all familiar with. Surely it was not one I which had created. Never before could I recall having ever envisioned a place so completely barren of creativity.
I found myself deeply confused.
If this was not a world of my own making than what was it? How did I get here?  

Curiously I ventured through the city streets and greeted the strangers who passed me by, though they were so listless and dreary that they paid me no heed. Dark circles painted the pale skin beneath their expressionless grey eyes and a sullen frown tugged so aggressively at their lips I feared they may sink straight to the ground. Each wore the same solid black and white uniform and carried a charcoal briefcase in their hand. I watched them for a time as routinely they marched back and forth between their homes and place of work. Never once did any of them stop to enjoy any kind of break.

As I continued to explore I discovered that, aside from the drones that continued to pass by, there was no other lifeforms to be seen. There were no children at play or teenagers causing a commotion. Not a cat in sight, nor a stray dog digging for a meal of garbage. No rats could be seen scampering about the alleyways or birds soaring through the smoky sky above. What trees had grown donned no leaves and sprouted no buds. There were no blossoming flowers or blades of grass decorating the ground, only cold cement and dusty earth.

I wondered then if perhaps I was observing purgatory. Maybe I had passed away in my sleep and had not done enough in life to grant me entrance to heaven or hell.
But I could make little sense in such a theory as I had not been ill. All that had been wrong with me when I drifted off to sleep that previous night was a bought of frustration brought on by the nagging of individuals instructing me that it was time I grow up and sacrifice my fantasies, time to live my life as a normal adult.
So, whatever was happening to me could not possibly have been death since I was quite obviously not dying.
Though perhaps it was a realm much the same. A different sort of "death".

With these thoughts bubbling in my head and a feeling of unease of this foreign environment growing in my belly, I decided I had overstayed my visit and began my quest for an exit.
I traveled straight ahead for no more than an hour when suddenly I came across the greatest foe I would ever face.
Before my eyes stood a wall.
Fifty feet?
A hundred?
Or was it as tall and as wide as eternity?
I couldn't tell and was quite fearful to find out. If this wall should never end, if I could find no way to overcome it I would be trapped in this dismal abyss for the remainder of my days.
It was not a fate I was ready or willing to ever face. I did not wish to become another lifeless zombie to inhabit such a boring world.  
However, I was at a loss of how to escape this wasteland.

For the longest while I sat still, hopeful that my gaze may reveal a secret of some kind. A hidden doorway that I had perhaps overlooked or a tunnel beneath the barricade.
My eyes traced the great brick wall. Up and down, back and forth. But no matter how hard I looked there seemed to be no obvious way of escape.
I could not climb over it, no ladder could reach so high above the ashen clouds, and I could not dig through the underlying cement. Finally, with no other options available, I began to walk.
An hour passed.
Two.
Three.
Four?
It was not long before I lost track of the time yet still I had not reached any sign of an escape path. There was no hint of a door, no cracks in the slab. There Only existed an endless wall of greys and blacks and whites.

As I looked back to the bleak world behind me I again pondered how It was I had arrived in such a place. What had I done in life to be deserving of such a grim destiny?

Tired and frustrated but unwilling to face defeat just yet I ventured back into the melancholy town in search of something - an answer, directions, anything that might point me in the direction of salvation from this hellish nightmare I had been trapped within.

First I stopped a man. He was old and if possible seemed unhappier than the rest. I asked him of this world and how it might be possible for one to break free. He told me to give up, to stop trying. He cried that there was no happiness to be had in this lifetime, that I would be met with heartbreak and disappointment if I dared to continue seeking any kind of light. It was an impossibility to escape. There was no hope.

No hope.

I heard that line from the monotonous voices of many people that day and little else. They said the wall could not be climbed or broken, that it was an indestructible force that stretched on for infinity and there were none in this world powerful enough to overcome it.

Hope soon faded from my heart and it was in this world that I stayed for days that slowly became weeks, weeks that dragged to months, and months that faded into years. Every day I did the same. I woke from a dreamless slumber, brushed my teeth, combed my hair, dressed in my colourless uniform, grasped hold of my briefcase and marched to work. I sat at a desk and tediously I typed away, entering the same sets of numbers into the computer repeatedly… endlessly.  

I had almost accepted this to be how I would live the remainder of my life. I was inches away from separating myself from individuality when one day, as if by some play of fate, I stumbled on my way to work and scraped my knee against the ground. From the wound escaped a glimpse of colour that had nearly been lost to me. Glistening drops of crimson trickled down my leg and painted the pavement at my feet. I dared to touch a shaky hand to the wound and I gazed in wonder at the brilliant shade of red that tinged the tips of my fingers. I had to struggle to pull my eyes away but when finally I did they immediately fell to the wall.
Suddenly I knew how I was to be free.

I raced to the city's barricade, the blood dribbling down my knee earning me looks of disdain from the people I bounded passed. I could hear in their whispers they thought me odd, condemned me because I dared to be a separate mind, but I could not bother to care. I knew at that moment that their world was not mine. I was not designed to be just another adult, I was born with a greater gift than simple existence.  

It took the wall to slow me down. I crashed into it and hugged my body against the cool surface as I took a moment to catch my breath. I looked up at the dusty bricks above that stretched on into forever and I laughed.
"You tried to trap me here, in this realm of normality." I roared as I dipped my fingers in the stinging wound on my knee. "You tried to make me just like everyone else. But I am not like anyone else." With my fingertips stained red I outlined a door on the barricade. "I am different." Gently I placed my hands against the wall inside the lines I had drawn and took a deep breath. "I am, and always will be, me." With a mighty push I forced the door open and triumphantly I stepped through the gateway into a vast sea of colour and fantastical imaginings, where fish flew high in the brilliant blue sky and birds swam beneath the green ocean waves.  With a smile painting my lips I turned back around just long enough to watch as the wall came crumbling down, forever sealing away the entrance to that dreary realm of normality.

Author's Note

Creative Block is the worst possible wall an imaginative person can run into. As our lives become routine and mundane sometimes we find ourselves getting lost or even trapped in that dreary realm of existence and try as we might we cannot find any route of escape.
Last year, while still penned up inside reality I decided to take on a writing challenge. The problem, of course, was that I was so deeply buried in my block I could not come up with any clever story ideas to write about.
Frustrated I started to put how I felt into words in hopes that it might lead me to discover some way out of my rut. What I ended up with was this - my winning short story.