[FICTION] Trapped

For this weekly exercise, we were asked to start a first person narrative with the line “You know what I mean?”, taken from Z Z Packer’s ’Gideon’. We were told to write about something that happened earlier in the narrator’s life.

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You know what I mean?…

No. You don’t know what I mean. You never will know what I mean.

You sit there submissively nodding in agreement and forcing a crafted smile. Engaging in farcical supportive back-channelling and fabricated sympathy. You don’t care do you? Sitting up on your moral high horse, looking down at me like shit on the pavement. Galloping away from taking responsibility for your pastimes corrupted by mistakes and selfishness.

For what felt like a century, I was trapped inside a cocoon of self-pity and doubt. Cursing myself and tarnishing my tabula rasa wings that were destined to be snow-white. They were destined to last a thousand years and take me around every continent on this wretched planet. To take me to the Heavens and the Milky Way beyond God’s garden, fluttering around the twinkling lights and intertwining galaxies. But no. I emerged stained by devious tar. My wings torn from tip to tip, as if a Lepidopterist had a psychological breakdown and ripped my flesh with their teeth.

I cannot fly…

Instead of showcasing kaleidoscopic tapestry, damaged closed curtains prevail. Looking up, I see the free people of the world, flying amongst the clouds, fluttering their wings of gold. My legs remain shackled to the ground because of you. The wings on my back annihilated.

I hope you know that.

I hope you know that I mean I’m trapped. Trapped because of you…

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