Garden of Thorns

A Story by Chara

When the world turned its gear, along with it was the passing of the life’s clock that came to a pause�"or so it seemed like it. Maybe it has been days. Maybe it has been already months or so. I am not quite sure. Mornings seem to be repetitive, and I have forgotten how it felt to be embraced by the sun’s warmth. It no longer birthed a chance for a new beginning, but rather it became a symbolism of lethargy.

Surrounded by people who radiate with warmth and love; yet I, myself, is blinded. The suffocating feeling of fondness that lurks in the air, a constant reminder that I no longer feel worthy of it. Basking in the comfort of solitude, I continue to hide away from the bright light of the sun. No longer do I see the beauty that lies beneath the starry sky nor the fascination in the combination of hues as the sun paves the way for the demure moon. These eyes no longer capable of differentiating fiction from reality.

These days, loneliness became the elephant in the room that no one seems to care enough to acknowledge. It silently cried for help, yet I remain unbothered.

What’s the point of acknowledging it when everyone probably notices it as well?

Days passed by and still, the repetition remains. Trapped in the four corners of isolation, loneliness creeps in slowly and feeds upon what is left of my sanity. With its silver tongue, it spews beautiful words that birthed roses of different caliber. Red, blue, magenta, silver, gold, orange, pink, white, and black. As I look upon the dazzling beauty of roses, the petals fall and sparkle as if they never wither.

Soon enough, I decided to build a garden to protect and nurture these roses. Days passed by and I fail to notice how the once dazzling beauty of roses slowly withered and the sparkle dimmed until there were only thorns left.

Indeed, these hands are only capable of destruction. They are not fit to handle such delicate pieces. They are not fit to nurture and protect.

And so, I let myself get trapped in the garden of thorns.