Sunday, November 23, 2008

Trapped- part one of a novel


Have you ever been trapped? Not kidnapped trapped, but feel trapped? My life evolves around that feeling. Since I was born, people have been telling me what to do, when to do it, and how to do it. I am trapped. Maybe you don't know what I am saying. Maybe you do. I have a house, my room, a yard, a school (in my house), and a mind. But in all that I have, I have nothing. My gate is made out metal, spray painted green. It is taller than me, but only by a inch or so. I am about 5' 4", and I could easily climb over the fence, but I never have. On the other side of it is a valley with hundreds of miles of green perfect grass, pine trees boarder it and tiny hills are amongst it. The air is fresher and purer out there than in my yard. The sky is bluer and the sun is brighter. But I have to admit, I have never been out there. I can only gaze out through the bars of my fence. For I am truly trapped.
It is growing darker by the minute and I am still standing by the fence. The door has a design on it, with little imprints of the the country who manufactured it, Mexico. The latch is on the other side of the door, that is one clue that tells me I am meant to trapped, another clue is me. I cam easily open the door. I can let it swing open and let it stay there. But i cannot leave. I cannot take one step out and into the vast and wonderful land. Why? I cannot say, for I barely know myself! But now cant you understand why I am trapped? Maybe you cannot. Do you want to process this image or thought in your mind? I didn't think so.
Later isn't better. I can't even see outside anymore so I head inside.
"Was it cold outside dear? You didn't even put on a sweater." My mom asked me.
"No, it wasn't cold or chilly outside. It was nice." I replied. I decided to go into my room. It had a white walls, a bed from a friend of my mothers, a small dresser and a tiny bookshelf. I went and sat down on my bed, thinking about the outside and why I was "trapped". It just occurred to me that there might be something bad about the people in the world.

1 comment:

Karen said...

Wow - I love your images and I didn't even know you wrote poetry!! What other secrets do you have?? I wonder about that dark green fence made in Mexico and who made it?? Keep writing Gram K