By Lorena Maca Garcia
Writing this piece was an outlet for my internal and external struggles when things were at a low point in my home life. I figuratively escaped by writing something that closely resonated with what I was feeling at that time.
Runaway. Run away from this lifeless body beneath me, stranded on this deserted yet not really deserted island, especially when surrounded by a vast collection of blue crystals, shadows lurking in the dark. Unknown tales that corner the very air around me, while I jog towards the confusing pathways that present themselves in my line of sight. Entering an endless maze in my own thoughts, drowning the forsaken visions of the past. Feeling the wind respond to my inkling of a correct makeshift road that has never been touched, yet I know deep within it’s the correct choice. The littering of rocks and pebbles underneath my feet stab me as I hastily walk, hoping as I have always done to be rid of the fear that is the embodiment of me—once again afraid of those shadows that are always in alliance with the dark coming to life, and what’s beneath them. Letting go of reason, or more likely losing grasp of anything that is left of my sanity. I run. I run towards the crystal blue gems that lay about with no care, just being in tune with the tranquility of the sky, having no fear to reach the outskirts of their larger collection of bodies across the globe. Feeling the wind cutting through my raggedy hair where it once was silky smooth, where anyone could slip their fingers in and go straight through like it was never there. Having been so desirable, each strand reached the end of my slim waist and the beginning of my small portions of flesh that I had always been ashamed of. Now my hair is cut down to the tips of my ears, being starved to where the ends of my bones look unsightly.
Stripping my face of any grain of dirt I once had while lying on the ground, emotionless for the duration of hours as the only sort of warmth came from the earth itself. Recalling the Earth as she once brought me tremendous comfort, for she shielded me, offered me the fruits of her hard yet natural labor in edible leaves and berries. She was my own mother and the animals that were her children were my siblings. Having the need for knowledge and hunger driving the base of my mindset, I learned from my brothers and sisters. They did not think of me as an outsider, for they accepted me. Intellectuals would jump to the conclusion that my siblings were dangerous since they were animals with no morals, no customs, but I knew better. I recalled the skills I have gained along my path to salvation regardless of whether the end destination was Death herself. As I continue, the rocky road transforms while easing its way toward a bark-covered road and letting the leaves of old, the forest of ancients, climb down from above. Letting themselves be free, just to have a tangible taste of feeling as if they were flying. However, when they do land there is no celebration from up above or down below, only the feet of many pressing on them as I do now. If you were to ever murder such a tremendous giant, only those with no soul, count the rims; they are the only ones that surpass the shackles of time. Scaling over broken pillars of strength as I jump over logs, even if my bones jump back with such ferocity as I continue. The smaller, carved-out logs covered in moss that house many living things including myself at one point in time, during the not-knowing.
Not knowing how this bleak tale ends, this story of mine. Known to the world as just a runaway girl. Yet in some strange shape or form I’m free in every possible being. Connected to the trees, connected to the earth, the wind, and the waters, my form of reality has changed perspective. I go back to what I thought I was meant to be, just a normal girl, walking the streets with her too-naive eyes, her too-big heart. Yet now I prosper as many have done in the past, and will continue to do so in this near future. Having her dreams shattered yet never deterred from her wayward path as so many have done and seem to do. I say a little prayer for those who have truly loved me to seek comfort and protect against the judgement in this world I have encountered too early in this short life.
Lorena lives in a quiet neighborhood in the Bronx and is currently a senior enrolled at a public high school in the South Bronx. Taking honors, AP Classes and college courses, she is striving towards her own expectations by sheer will and determination. She challenges herself to seek out all the brightest possibilities in the world, expressing her emotions through words, as well as her inner mind and inner self. She writes the majority of her pieces at a cafe little known to others, sipping an iced coffee with a “reasonable” amount of sugar.