April 24, 2024, 01:08 PM
there was a wall.
a wall between him and the land outside the spear.
he had walked alongside the wall, tapped the wall, looked at the wall, but he had not yet tried to get past it. it had not been there before. it had not been there the last time he left his home. it had suddenly appeared after the attack, and acrux had not been bothered by it. the wall had kept him safe — it had kept her away.
but now the wall had turned to a cage, and he felt as chains had been placed around his ankles. he was a prisoner and the sheriff all the same. he held the keys in his pocket, but there was no escape. he rattled against the bars that confined him, tested their strength. there was no breaking them, no climbing them, no digging beneath them. he was trapped within the limits of his fear, a victim to anxiety.
and then one day, a door appeared.
he knocked, but no one answered. there was a doorbell so he rang that, but no one came. he stood to glance out the peep hole, and was reminded of all the wonder that waited for him on the other side. he took the keys from his pocket, and shakily tested them against the lock.
a click! the creak of an old door finally swinging open.
he stood there for a moment, suddenly overwhelmed of what awaited him, of what he once loved.
and then he took a step, hesitant as if placing a paw on the other side would result in him bursting to flames. but nothing happened when he did so. he did not combust, he did not wither, no one came to harm him, and the world kept spinning.
another step. another. one more.
he was out. he had done it.
he had made it past the wall.
a wall between him and the land outside the spear.
he had walked alongside the wall, tapped the wall, looked at the wall, but he had not yet tried to get past it. it had not been there before. it had not been there the last time he left his home. it had suddenly appeared after the attack, and acrux had not been bothered by it. the wall had kept him safe — it had kept her away.
but now the wall had turned to a cage, and he felt as chains had been placed around his ankles. he was a prisoner and the sheriff all the same. he held the keys in his pocket, but there was no escape. he rattled against the bars that confined him, tested their strength. there was no breaking them, no climbing them, no digging beneath them. he was trapped within the limits of his fear, a victim to anxiety.
and then one day, a door appeared.
he knocked, but no one answered. there was a doorbell so he rang that, but no one came. he stood to glance out the peep hole, and was reminded of all the wonder that waited for him on the other side. he took the keys from his pocket, and shakily tested them against the lock.
a click! the creak of an old door finally swinging open.
he stood there for a moment, suddenly overwhelmed of what awaited him, of what he once loved.
and then he took a step, hesitant as if placing a paw on the other side would result in him bursting to flames. but nothing happened when he did so. he did not combust, he did not wither, no one came to harm him, and the world kept spinning.
another step. another. one more.
he was out. he had done it.
he had made it past the wall.