She sat on the stairs. Looking out, into the street. No desire to embrace the sun, just anger.
Inside she felt nothing but winter. The sun was beautiful and brilliant but she felt ice-cold inside.
People waved at her. She reluctantly waved back.
Lifting her arm to be “nice” she said.
Being nice “is a waste of time” she said.
She threw a rock across the street and said “no one will ever understand me.”
In her mind she said,
Will anyone ever feel this agony. The helplessness and despair in me. It shows as anger but God I am empty.
Lonely inside because no one listens. Friends text back when they are bored.
I always ask are you ok. When will I be asked the same.
Is anyone out there as crazy as me. Is there anyone as lonely as me. I am simply a machine creating smoke each time I try to think.
I know I am negative but that’s how life treats me.
She got off the steps and walked down the block.
Holding a rock in hand.
She bumped into an old woman who looked lost and said, “are you ok?”
The old lady held a rock in her hand as well and said, “I just realized, I wasted my life.”
She looked as if she was about to cry.
The girl never cared enough to hear anyone’s words but this time she had to listen.
The old lady hugged the girl and said, “I spent 38 years angry with my husband because of something out of his control. I spent years angry at the death of my child. Blamed it on my husband. Blamed it on God. Blamed it on myself and so I became bitter. I used to sit on my steps every day, throwing rocks across the street. Hoping to hit someone so they could feel my pain.”
The girl released the rock in her hand. The old lady hugged her and said, “Don’t let anything make you bitter. Take advantage of the time you have. I don’t have much left.”
The girl walked back to her building and texted her mother and wrote, “Mom, I love you. I don’t want to be angry anymore. I don’t want to be bitter.”
She thought of all the deaths in her family. Her father leaving. Her mother always at work. School work piling up and the unfortunate things that have happened in her 17 years of life.
That old lady to her was like staring into the future. A glimpse of what she was becoming.
Someone who throws rocks across the street. Out of anger.
Someone who like this mysterious old lady,
Was angry at everything and everyone.
That old ladies reality was her wake up call.