Andro2OO8

You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town? she begins, then pauses to study your face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.”

((How do you respond?))

My story? And who are you to ask?... But you know what.. I need this.. Let’s go.. (sigh)… I was born in a wealthy family, which meant we had what everyone wanted.. I got a good education.. I can speak a language and a half, (nodding his head) I wasn’t really keen on the second language (ends nodding). But books always fascinated me, how much you can tell through them, just using words… I could’ve gone abroad, or just stayed at home, assume my father’s position after he died. I was a first-born after all.. But I didn’t, I.. My family.. Well let’s say that I did not agree with my family’s views and they did not exactly understand mine, so we didn’t get along that much.. At the age of 15 I just ran away from home, went to work in a library, a big one, and one that was far away from my past.. Worked there for a lot of years, got to read a lot, I really liked history and poetry, I loved them.. Ehh.. But this life got stale.. being a librarian isn’t as fun as it sounds. But at the age of 20 I met this girl. She was a great one, open-minded, smart and beautiful, as a goddess, fell in love, married a year later. I had 2 kids from her. And well, I loved that, I saw the world differentely. Now everything I did, was for my family, a librarian was a great job, again, I was happy.. I really was. My two little boys were the most cute and charming children someone could have.. When I was 32 is where it all crumbled.. A huge disease spread through the town.. It first took my little boy and then.. (you know this like sound, like huh, but not a confused one but a sad one, I don’t know how to describe it but basically it) my big boy as well.. My wife.. She ended her life.. I left.. I couldn’t stay there.. (deep breath) I became a sailor.. There I got a tattoo, a rose tattoo [inspired by the song “Rose Tattoo” by the Dropkick Murphies]. It was for my wife and kids, see (takes right sleeve off) (then puts it back on). I began to recover.. Starter writing a journal, it kept my passion my passion for books, and I needed somewhere to write my thoughts in. Met some nice people on that ship, made some friends, some good friends, but it didn’t last long.. We crashed.. (stares for a bit, like a ptsd stare).. We washed up on some remote island, god knows where, journal, nowhere to be found. I was thinking of beginning one again, would be nice.. But anyways. Out of the 10 we were on the island, only I survived.. We went crazy.. At a certain point, it was just who will outdo the others, who has what it takes to beat the others.. I didn’t.. I just hid away.. (deep breath) They took care of each other.. A year or so later, a ship appeared, I got its attention.. They saved me, and I can not tell you how much I wish they didn’t.. My “saviours” were pirates, bandits and outlaws.. bad people.. But.. I was in “debt”, I had to pay it off.. 4 years with them.. What I did.. It changed me for the worse.. (looks away and shakes head), I won’t give any details… (looks back).. They let me go after that.. I guess you can call it luck but I am not sure what exactly it is.. Ever since then.. I have just been wandering.. Going from place to place.. I.. (deep breath) I am just lost.. (looks down) Maybe I will find myself one day.. (shaking head) But I don’t see that happening soon..  (quickly looks at the stranger). Well thanks for listening to me, I needed to say that out, see you around..