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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1325314-The-Autumn-Disguise
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by Aporia Author IconMail Icon
Rated: · Short Story · Death · #1325314
Childhood story.
         The leaves are turning yellow. Green is being kicked out of the way, just like my mind which has been concentrating on studying to make some good-looking numbers on those dead white sheets. Autumn has come. And I am wanting to type something with myself within.

         Autumn evenings. They remind me of something that does not really seem to have been existing in my life. I am thinking of what friends I now have. What poems I now write. What happens in my family. What future I hold or want.
         I believe all that is causing me to have these feelings right now is because next year my life seems to be turning over a corner.

         Since Saint Kentigerns College started to grab girls, it looked like a pretty good chance for me to get tucked into that school. My reports were sent for application with two references as back-ups. And I got in. FOr this tep, so far, nine hundred dollars were given away like charity. Or to me, more like bribes. Next steps like confirming or buying uniforms more damn bucks were required. However, money was not the main problem for me. It was the classes or courses that mattered. A bloody good task for me to think about. And my parents.
         The first thing that came into my mind was my friends. This is the question that fights me from the start till now.
         Before I stepped into college, I simply did not know what friendship tastes like. I used to pace alone in my school-life, since the day after I left kindergarten. I never felt lonely. Maybe because no one had ever called me a loner. I remember that when I was five I never played with other kids at school. At playtime, everyday, I walked along the corridor outside the classrooms, with my fingertips touching the cold wall. I either looked at the floor or looked at the ceiling. I hear other children chasing or singing but I did not want to be with them. Even those people whom I later on laughed and talked with were not true at all. They just made me not to be myself.
         Until college, I was thirteen, and this girl called Sam suddenly came into my life one morning. Something in a pityful corner of my mind told me that she was different. She was not one of those who you talk to for two days and never meet again. At first I tried to ignore that. Because I loved the way that loneliness was just fine with me. But then I knew. Right, she was the one.
         What made me realize was what went on inside her brain. One normal day after school we went home together, talked, and walked at the speed of two paces per minute. She was bazooming about Hannibal and Clarice and I was glad to be rain-washed, as she was glad to call it. And as Dr. Hannibal Lecter's Memory Palace came up in the conversation, she told me about her own.

         The next thing I remember was I gazed and went silent.
         Her memory palace was almost, almost the same as my own.
         Oh goddammit. I was not going to believe it.
         No one was going to believe it....

         2:34am, Thursday
         The entrance is a well-tarnished, huge classic wooden door. When I am there it opens by itself, and what I see is a palace with white pillars surrounding the room in a semi-circle.The ceiling is dark and endless.
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