A Figment Of My Imagination

I wrote this when I was in HIGH SCHOOL. rereading it I can see even more....I wrote this in 10th grade, really?

You find me hiding in your cold basement.  You ask me, why am I here?  And I don’t answer you, because I am forever-silent.  You ask me what my name is.  You ask me, why am I watching you?  You ask me, why are you shivering?

          And I don’t hear you.  I don’t hear you, because I am living half a second in the past.  Everyone is, though.  But I still don’t hear you.

          You can hear me breathe but I am not alive.  I never was.  I never existed.  For no one ever knew me.  I was never even born.  I am different from everyone else.  You think you know me but you don’t.

          I am different from everyone else, because my body was not formed by a man and a woman.  I am not human-made. 

          My body is empty, because my soul is someplace else.  You stare at me and wonder why I shiver.  You ask me why I am freezing to death.

          You ask me, why won’t you speak to me?

          And this is what I don’t tell you:  I don’t speak to you because I am different.  My soul is different.  Unlike yours, my soul can escape my body.  It can travel wherever it wants, and enter whatever living object it wishes to.  I am different.  Not because I want to.

          But that I do not tell you.  You wonder why my dark eyes are gazing at you.  You wonder if it is sorrow, or wonder, or worry, or fear that lies in my doomed eyes.  You don’t know that the answer to your question, if on a multiple choice test, would be (e), all of the above.

          You don’t know anything about me… even my name is out of your realm.  I want to tell you, but I can’t.  And I never will be able to.

          I know you are hurting.  You are panicking, for a dirty, gaunt girl is hiding in your basement.  You don’t know what to think of me; you don’t know what to feel.  But I am no girl.  You think you know me but you but you don’t.  I am no girl and I am no boy, for I am merely a soul that has no body.  You don’t know that it is only the body that carries the genetic traits of male and female.  Gender belongs only to the physical world.

          And no, I am not dead.  If you heard me, I know you would be afraid.  I have no gender.  That frightens everyone.

          Your facial expression tells me that you want me out of your basement.  But I see something else in your eyes.  I see fear, I see worry.  I don’t see the soft-winged bird that is known as hope.

          Your basement is dark and dreary and I’m sorry I chose it as my shelter.  You stare at me and I stare back at you.  But you are not even there.  You are just a figment of my imagination.  Everything is.  Nothing exists.  There is no proof that the physical world exists.  Our minds create it.  Our eyes…our senses…want to see it, so they do.  Everything is merely our imagination.

          I want to reach out to touch you but I am afraid you won’t exist.  I already learned that the grass isn’t green, and the sky doesn’t go on forever.  I learned never to trust my senses.

          Wherever you are you are not here.  Or are you?

          Whoever you are, I WANT OUT OF YOUR BASEMENT!  But I am trapped.  I am trapped in this endless plane forever.  I am trapped in this body I took over when I entered the physical world.  The physical world, that doesn’t even exist.  This body is just a figment of my imagination.  So are you so, go away!

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          Now I will tell you everything I can’t tell you.  Everything that pains my eyes to say.  You wish I would!

          But here is what I will never, ever tell you:  You’re presence-real or not-lingers everywhere.  It lurks in every dark corner, but you are not dark.  Your presence haunts me, but I will never let it leave.

          For, once you were different.  Once I knew you.  Now I am stuck in your basement…forevermore.

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Author's Note

I know this is crappy, I wrote it when I'm a teenager. The only reason it's up here is because its proof that even though repressed, I had these thoughts when I was a kid even if it only came out in writing. So I won't edit it, cause its just a historical artifact and not something I ever intend to polish & publish.