The tower and the boy

A Story by Chris

Hidden away in a tower standing atop a complacent world

There once was a boy who lived in a faraway land. This land was filled with beautiful trees and hills roaming and forming the landscape aimlessly. Atop the tallest hill of the careless land lies a tower, spindling and strong, reaching to the sky. This tower curves and bends like the hills if they were turned on their sides. The black cobblestone sticks out opaque against the light landscape, absorbing the blue from the sky and the green from the ground. Although its windows are rather gothic, it is not medieval, rather a testament to individuality prevailing against a uniformly pleasant backdrop.

At the top of this tower, the point in which the rugged stone meets the formless clouds lives a boy. This boys name happens to be Timothy. Every day Tim look out from his window and sees the same permanent landscape, never changing to the slightest degree. Only when he looks up can he see the clouds and their amorphous tendency, changing into whatever his heart desires, perhaps a cat, perhaps a sword. And every day from his window he feels nothing, but utter discontent. If beauty exists on such a magnitude then how shall it ever mean more than what it is in this present moment. If the grass never dies and the hills never run jagged, then how shall the wonder ever exist on a higher plane. Disparate and alone atop this tower, he chose never to leave. Knowing the moment that he steps down his dreams will be fulfilled, and that is just not exciting enough. That there is more to life than what one wants, and he will stay where the ground meets the sky until he learns what that is.

Timothy was not locked in his tower, and could choose to leave whenever he so wished. Alas, the faint ping in his heart prevented him from doing so. It almost had a sound too it, yet it was more of a feeling. He would walk to the door and ping ping, suddenly he would be filled with bubbling reprehension, a gentle fear roaring loudly. That is when he would choose to sit on his wooden bed and look out the window. Although the landscape never changed, sometimes the birds would come by. Fluttering up with their magnificent wings, although only coming in the fairer shades of colors, the birds would speak. “Out here it is wonderful, Come”. Too which Tim would reply “Are you happy” the answer was always “As happy as the trees sway gently in the wind”. Tim at this point would turn away with a vague sense of confusion, is security and happiness intertwined, or perhaps they are of a different making. The birds often would not leave Tim alone, but once he turned his back upon them their words became mere squabble.

From under his bed Tim would pick up writings and drawing and describe things that he had never seen before. Mainly it would have to do with the landscape onto which he lived. A volcano may erupt from the ground, and lava may spew out, turning the water to steam. And with his valor he brought all the animals in the valley too safety, and perhaps the humans too. Of course this is only imagination for he never felt fear of death, or the insurmountable feeling of courage and honor. In fact he has never seen people. He believes they live behind the hills, but he dare not venture past his tower.

And so the days past in which Timothy was merely a spectator watching on from a distance, that is until his fourteenth birthday. At this time he noticed his aging, and that he unlike the hills was impermanent. Discontent flooded through him and he lept from his bed. As by impulse he grabbed a pencil and paper and ran down the many stairs. It took him two hours to reach the ground and by the time he did he was tired. The faint ping ping kept him on edge, but the entire time he kept it at bay. He saw the entrance to the outside world hanging open, and as if it would close he lept through it onto the soft green grass. A sparking feeling of happiness lept through him as he rolled around in the earth's downy fur. He smiled up too the sun, and it seems the sun smiled back. The birds were circling his head and he caught their eyes. Despite the birds beautiful feathers, their eyes were blank. Timothy felt a sense that something was lost, and that he needed to find it. With his hands he dug down the brilliant green grass and found brown a color that he had never seen before. It was not displeasing, but it was not beautiful and content. Next he cut his hand on thorns, and red streamed down from it. The color conjured up feeling of fear and aggression, he was not off put. Lastly he looked into a stream near the great tower. Lastly he dove into the cool blue river and pulled out a black stone, holding it high above his head.

Using all these colors along with the blue of the sky, green of the grass and trees, and the white of the clouds he made a picture. This image was of himself, but it was like something he had never seen before. His eyes shone with red, even though he knew his were green. His skin was a light brown, even though he knew his was tan at best. His hands were red, not matching with the rest of his complexion. His clothes were green and blue. The white made up the backdrop. Suddenly it began to rain, and then downpour, and then lightning struck. All the while Timothy marveled at his creation, it was crude, but it was beautiful, evoking all the emotions that the human spectrum possessed.

From behind the hill came other humans, confused by the rain. Seeing Timothy so unafraid they were drawn to him like moths to a light. “What is this?” they asked. “A drawing of sorts”. One by one each human gave his feedback “It makes me feel afraid” “It makes me feel happy” “It makes me feel angry” “I feel nothing, but absolute despair” “This drawing seems impermanent” “The continuity of it is fascinating”. As they spoke Timothy realized that all colors were necessary to paint a picture of deeper meaning. He realized that people can take away different things from the same thing. And as he thought on and on a man stepped up and asked “Will you come behind the hill with us and draw us another picture?”. Another lady piped up “Please do, before I only thought there was happiness, but through this picture I realized that there is so much more. And with all these emotions life is seemingly simply boring”. Tim gave a bright smile and patted the back of the man and woman. “Let's learn what we can draw, lets learn who we are”.