Thing

        

        Right now you might not know who I am, but very soon you will. Let me explain. Normally learning about some one’s life is boring, but not mine. I am just an idea, a thought, a character. I am only a made-up figment of my creator’s imagination. There was only one person who knew of my existence, but not anymore. They left me and I need a new creator. This is generally where you would hear who am I. In my case I'm not a who or a where, why, when, how, but a what. I am a thing.

      

 

  Some might say that I have never lived. They are wrong. I think, I dream, and I hope. If not alive, what am I? What am I?

        

 

I remember being formed. The idea popped into her head as fast as it was gone. She didn’t believe in me, there was no hope for me ever existing. My presence was an absence in her life that needed to be filled. I should have been there for Krystal but I wasn’t. How could I? Krystal’s own mind wouldn’t let her see me, hear me, or believe in me.

        I was young and my home was a dark and lonely place. The home of which I came was a hole inside the empty spaces of the world. The unknown is my father and destiny is my mother. They raised me knowing I would be nothing. They thought that mortal’s minds were incapable of me. They didn’t know Krystal. They didn’t know the passion that could live inside a person till it was needed, till the time when it needed to be shown.

        I was covered by cold blasting wind rolling down my spine. I can still feel the astonishment I felt then, even as I look back on it now. My legs started to fall from under me. I landed on my arm in the middle of a barely lit room. Ten minutes it took for me to get accustomed to the feeling of solids. The reality was that I was real in that moment. My soul came to be a heart; my brain was what my eyes had once been. The room was spinning and then stopped like the top car of a Ferris wheel, I could look down and see everything but it was all a blur.

        A frightened little girl with shimmering hazel eyes and hair that blended in with the black walls sat in the corner of the room. The cowering girl surprised me; then again a lot of things surprise me about that day.

        “Who… Who are you?” an obviously shaken voice could be heard. Krystal was staring at me not moving, just watching.

        “I don’t know.” Then I vanished. The air that had created me before was now crushing me down. The place I had been before the, oh so familiar blank, white environment I had known for so long returned. What I had once thought to be the only place in the world was now just the only place in my world.

The one convenient part of nothingness is the time it gives you to think. I thought about Krystal, or at that time she was just the small lonely girl in vast and exciting new dimension. I had been an idiot. The only thing I had managed to say was “I don’t know.” How sad is that? For my whole nonexistence I had waited to exist, and what did I do? I froze.

Ever since the moment I saw her, I have dreamed about her. Although my dreams don’t appear to me the way that dreams come to others, I still dream. I never sleep. I have no body requiring energy. Therefore I never eat. My days were long and the only thing I see is white. The white that I see is like the sky before a storm, there appears to be nothing above the horizon. That is also the way that I feel when I stare into the white. The only way to get away from the dark colored white was to dream.

My dreams consist of the room. The old-fashioned drapes coming across the window. The light fighting to come inside, but is defeated by the thick, blood red curtains. They flow to the hardwood flooring that maintains the darkness that the room embodies, with a bearskin rug. The mouth of the bear is wide open, showing its big, pointy teeth. The thought of someone in such a dark room with a bear on the ground made me think that the new world was dangerous.  I would have loved to go back. Now I wish I had never gone.