I don't even think there is a way to describe what we call a "crazy" person. You will tell me to describe that weird dude from the streets that is always talking about the apocalypse and quotes the bible to anyone that walks past him. But that is not every "crazy" person. So who am I talking about? Who are those crazy ones? Well, they are the ones that are not afraid to show who they really are, even if sometimes, the world is not ready for truth. Now...........days, you can be crazy only because you do something that most don’t, like dressing differently........ or liking things the many are scared of. The cruel truth is that if we would really mean what we think, just being you makes you insane. No, that is not my answer. Crazy people are lost inside a world they can’t escape or don’t want to, even. Sometimes, reality doesn’t even mean anything to them, and that is why they have such a different perspective of the world. Now, let me tell you about this boy with no name I know that who belonged to another world, one some don’t even think real.
At the a first glance he was as normal as any kid his age. He must been a teenager at the time. Not much stood out of his appearance. If you saw him around, you would only see a glance of those sad and empty eyes. It was like they hid an entire universe somewhere in that deep blue. But he liked to cover them with his long brown hair, just so people won’t look at him. Even his clothes were always some shades of grey or black, nothing ever vibrant, nothing that would make him anything special. Somehow, he managed to become a shadow. Even if he was somehow invisible, he always examined everything. From the stupid drama from at school, to the way people walked on the street. He knew everything. There were these moments in the mornings when he would stare at an empty spot on the wall for minutes and minutes before getting out of the bed. He always made his own food, especially for school. His parents were quite worried about his paranoid thoughts, but sometimes he was so sure people wanted him death dead. Some of them knew what he could do, and they wanted to use him because of that. He had to make sure they won’t catch him. The school was close, so walking was a way to relax before the hell that learning had become. Every singe day became this cycle no one could break, a never ending deja vu. Teachers had this habit of reproaching him that he ”had his head in the clouds.” They weren’t wrong, to be honest, quite the opposite actually. It was as ....if.... walking in that class.....would........ make him walk into another dimension. He suddenly started to hear all these things and see dark silhouettes. All that made it hard to concentrate properly. Despite all, he tried his best. Sometimes he would even try poking himself with the tip of the pen, so he could come back with his feet on the ground. But it was harder and harder, day after day and now, it started to become a problem. The boy never told anyone about what was happening. Well, almost anyone. As soon as the bell rang, he gets his stuff and runs home. The outside is dangerous, and they can get him there. Now and then, the boy takes took wrong turns so he is was sure no one is was following him. But danger follows did follow everywhere he goes went and sometimes it gets got close to home. But inside the house, he is was safe. [ar fi trebuit sa povestesti la timpul trecut aici, pentru consecventa]
So, to make you understand how all of this started, we have to go back years when it all happened. He was just a little boy then. No worries, no fears, no idea what was waiting. But he got the chance to be in that place in the worst moment and it ruined his life. Because there is nothing worse to be on the way to school and see a little girl, bloody and scared on the sidewalk, trying to crawl out of the road. But as the young man saw her, he knew she didn’t stand a chance. He screamed for help but no one was around. He screamed louder and louder but it was like there was no one in the entire world. Tears began to fill his eyes, and everything became darker. He hadn’t didn't even remembered when he closed his eyes, but some hands rubbed his shoulders. As he looked up, the blonde hair made him relax. It wasn’t bloody and the girl’s green eyes weren’t in pain anymore. Only her smile hid darkness and sadness. They both went home.
That day, a girl in the neighborhood died by being hit by a car. The killer didn’t stop and because no one was around, she bled to her death. Only a young boy screamed till a family in the house nearby saw the accident and called for help. But it was too late. The same day a certain boy made best friend. A friend that was dead and he was the only one that could see that blonde hair and green eyes. He learned to live with it, with all those voices that screamed for help inside his head. He knew that not every spirit could live in the mundane world and some wanted to torture him to get out of that land of death, darkness and pain. But it was all worth it. For her, because as she told him, she was living through, his eyes. And it was perfect. Because of him, she was free.
Of course, no one can call him normal and we are taught that, for the majority of time, not normal is crazy. Insane. Dangerous. But, as it happens for many stories, just because you know the ending doesn’t mean you know the tale.

Last edited by galactic_traveler (2019-06-09 21:29:02)