Ok, so if you feel emotions on your skin and touch in your mind then…how does a person with no sensation on their skin feel emotions…I dont, although i suppose if someone stabbed me…or something went wrong with one of my bones or organs I would feel it but other than that I am wat you would call a very neutral individual. and you, old woman, what happens if someone dies? you cant feel them anymore so why would you care if they died?dead skin is nothing to cry over unless the person in it is still alive….you have no idea what happens when we touch each other do you? for however long we make physical contact our minds are able to touch each other….Jalaal is able to communicate like you with his words. And he will not be repulsed by your touch as most of us would, however he has been unable to express his emotions his entire life…he is forever denied the release of that little breakdown you had in the living room earliermost people who become untouchables are sent immediately into the government for training as an executioner…but some like Jalaal find solace in the church taking confessions… either way they walk in the shadow of the valley of deathjalaal extended his hands toward me, an act I would soon learn was like the kiss of death for some but I would grow dependant on, and led me towards the exit he had been brought through. i suppose you will need to sleep soon, he said in that oddly hollow voice…or do you not need sleepi am a little tired…thank yougratitude is something i have never known or come to expect Ariel, the purpose of words is instructionthat night as I slept in a hammok made especially for me to rest in I dreamt about a faerie coming down to my home back on earth and replacing me with a changeling. As the real version of me wailed in a crib made of spiderwebs with goblins for babysitters. Then just as I began to get comfortable in my crib i was awakened by a very loud noise… i fell from my hammok…there sitting in the place that I had just fallen from was Melody, staring right through me with those silver eyes of hers…So… have you been enjoying your new life so far? arent they just a bunch of firecrackers?! Take me home Melody before I lose my mind…Oh all in due time dear, you may even come to like this place before then…and im sure your counterpart back home hasnt gotten a chance to get into the full swing of things either…Home…it hurt like brand new shoes to think about earth, and the pain didnt lessen with time, I sill miss everythingThe next morning I rose with the sun, not that I wanted to leave the peacefull place of sleep but seeng as I had slept outside The light would not let me rest…the sunrise was wonderful streaks of orange accross the sky fading into blue reflected off of the windows and buildings, and for a few moments it looked like eldorado… city of gold So ah do you guys have anything to eat?the old woman whos name I later found out was Ophelia, turned around and and gestured towards a table and chair set that seemed to be plugged into the wall. i flinched as she looked at me… I had almost forgotten the affect their eyes had on me… Yes you must eat and then go to the templeFrench fries, grapes, chicken, and peas. Surprised and delighted I gobbled everything down without breathing. That first meal had been delicious. I told her so and recieved no response.The temple turned out to be hole in the ground about the size of a small mansion with rooms cut into the walls. As i stood at the edge of it i could see people at the bottom all of them lying on their backs staring at the sky and all of them touching each other…yes this is how we pray…there is no way to fathom the sky or the ocean and there is no way to harbor hate if you feel your neighbors pain. we feel the suns rays as much as you do but i assume it is very different…if we stare at the sun to long we become blindI figured that. so would I…you do not understand…the suns energy is delicious feeling…fortunately it is too far away for anyone to actually harm themselves with…but it is quite beautifuldown the steps we went…the silence was almost maddening. there there was no hum of electricity, i could not hear people moving around like i could in the house, and no one seemed to have much to say. i was led to a room and told to dress myself for work. I had no idea what she meant until I saw what was hanging at the edge of the room.You people want me to put on a nuns habit?!she walked out of the room and the beads hanging in the doorway clinked with her passing
Timidly at first. Then with more fervent scribblings pen was put to paper. Each word a stroke of brush on canvas that would illustrate how it should have been. Chanting repeatedly and more strained with every breath he whispered the words that shaped his denial. Write it down make it real what you think what you feel. His art would only become his reality on the landscape of a blank canvas. Every pause of the pen became a painful reminder of the emptyness that shaped his words. His only hope was to scribble his fantasy as quickly as possible so that once the fragments of his imagination came together into an inteligable plot his perception of reality would be reshaped with it to give his life new meaning.
Every new paragraph held within its grasp the hope of his salvation. However as with his miserable disposition his story always seemed to go downhill. His hope would dwindle his plot would falter the canvas that once held the promise of his new beginning became nothing but a reflection of his own muddled youth.