Who
Am I?
by Raechel White
Starlight sparkled in the white wine, the moon shone passionately against the pitch of the pool. All around me the beautiful people danced, laughed, and played in an appalling mockery of their real selves. A giggle arose about me quivering my lips. The muscles tensed under my pale red lipstick to conceal my bliss. Even though they were oblivious to their own secrets they hid from each other, peering into their eyes revealed to me each sin and tribulation. My own mind relaxed as I thought of how wonderful it was to be one of the true honest workers of the land. Above all, I relaxed to the idea that I was sitting here amongst the uppity of the world and could hold my head high without them even glimpsing in my direction. I was able to see everything clearly while their own heads were caught in the dizzying heights of silver lined clouds.
The glimmer of pearls and diamonds blinded me as I thought of the simplicity behind it all. It amazed me that we humans, being apparently of high intelligence, would allow a select few the ability to hold so much power and wealth in order to claim such relatively chintzy things as their own. After all, what is it to own a ball gown of red silk? Is not the color no finer that the soft petals of a rouge rose? Are not the pink clouds in front of a summer sunset just as beautiful to see, and come to us at no price? These things so simple are things that some do not wish to consume. Why is it that everything must come at a price to be worth anything to the masses?
As I looked into the colorless wine, I thought of the things equally as colorless that I love more and are free to me, water running over the rocks hardened by the passing of such slow time, or even the panes of fragile glass concealing me from the autumn chills.
Tonight I watched in disguise, as if I were one of these miserable creatures too. Wrapped up in the man made-grit of life and in my own mind I looked down upon them as if I were a God, but what gives me the right? There is no right, I managed to lower myself past their grime-laden levels and looked up to them from the mangled swamp of self-gluttony for guidance. If they spend a thousand dollars on a bottle of wine, then I see fit to spend no money on a glass of water. I only try to out bid them, not in giving the most money for the quality made by man but the least.
The night pours on and I see they are uncovering my true identity. I am nothing more than they are, yet I am much worse. Not only am I victim to the same pleasure as they are, I take time to look down upon them as if I were one better. Tears begin to swell and my heart quickens. All around me eyes close in upon my face and each glaring at me with the intent to kill. How can I wish to survive such terrible circumstances? I have truly done myself in. As each stalks past me with heavy stilettos and even heavier mouths I know that I have gone too far.
Music continues to play just as it had when I walked into the room, the tune changed, but the meaning the same. Notes placed in an order meant to stir up old feelings of love for ones we all but had forgotten. Still I feel their eyes piercing so far into my blackened heart I cannot breath or even hope to listen. Wishing to be free of the guilt, I scream. Suddenly their glares are changed. They actually do turn to me and instead of burning eyes of hate, I see piteous pupils of worry. Stillness creeps through my bones and blackness floods my view, sounds escape my ears and all is quiet. |