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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Contest Entry · #2155646
No time to dwell, everything's fragmented.
Gravity is a force we impose with our minds, this is how our entire world is glued together and is the key to telekinesis. A town barely a dust particle on an atlas facing southern California is home to a local living legend. He was a young teenager not unlike any other; sporting a rather forgetful mug that screamed disinterest abreast pimples plotting world domination. His name saddled up on the wind and startled storm-chasers for miles around, soon it was the topic of discussion in every dining room from San Jose to Staten Island. You couldn't step outside without hearing the seniors on park benches or the store clerks on smoke breaks, even the tenants of alleyway real estate all yammering about this kid who woke up one morning and forgot how to walk vertically.

Now you're probably wondering; was he raised by wolves? Was he somebody's mobilized foot-stool? He may not be traversing upright but nor is he on all fours.Thinking it was one of those goofy rarities where you fall out of bed in a crumpled heap, Andre kept his eyes tight shut desperately trying not to stray too far from his dream state as he felt around for his mattress. Nothing, nothing & more nothing. "Screw it!" Far too agitated for slumber to invite him back, Andre decides it's time to greet the day like wedding-crashers. From a Quarter Lotus straight onto his feet without his hands to prop himself up, in comes the eye-opener. There was never a skylight in his room, why in the hell is there a spotlight on him?! Now he gets it and collapses, paralyzed at this revelation.

The magnetic needle on my moral compass spinning so fast it would make a decent propeller, I could fly away like Mary Poppins. Everything around me is visual background noise no matter how hard I strain to make out the muffle, the only thing clear is the path that lays before me. My surroundings have a stop-motion jitter, somewhere along the way I made it to the edge of the earth. There's this term thrown around known as 'the call of the void' which puts a name to the urge one has to jump to their death when they're at a great height. Truthfully I've arrived at a landfill of mangled human carcasses and they're all falling into the clouds. I could describe the horror in pedantic detail, I could, I'm less concerned with entertaining you I'm speaking to the lost soul.

Yes, Andre is here, he seems to be imploding, I must be an extension of him, I thought I found him but I was dragged here by my own free will, as we know even that comes at a price. There's an area beyond this point but the bridge was severed, my little brother killed me but even then he wouldn't let me die. I'm conscious of this beeping machine and how it weighs heavy on mother but I'd just like to make it to May. I'm sorry I'm so selfish. After gawking for so very long at the bodies, I realize Andre is missing, no, he walked briskly toward the other side, he doesn't need a bridge. Soon thereafter I too made it across but with each step i became saddened, even crying, there's nothing back there for me anymore. I now have zero recollection of my past, only a waning suspicion that my newborn daughter April won't ever need to live in a world where her name is attributed to my transitioning. The last thing I feel is a tiny hand brush a tear from my cheek and I'm gone, not even I know where.
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