Everything was itchy in this world. I hated it. I hated being in charge. You never were. You never will be.

The paper is tore once, twice, three times. This was the last of them. I shredded it and scattered it to the wind. It didn’t matter anymore. Nothing did. I watched the gust of wind take the old pieces of paper that have slightly started to yellow, away from me. I could feel the grains of paper stuck inside my nails. I needed to get it out. My nails were itching and digging them in my palm didn’t work. I stared until the paper was completely gone out of my vision. Which was not too hard you know? I was practically blind. Which didn’t help at all in my current situation. The wind picked up speed and I could feel it tingle the small hairs on the back of my neck. As if someone was watching me; but I knew no one was. I was finally free of the constraints people had shackled me in. Nothing mattered anymore. To anyone. To anything. The rules had changed completely because now, well now, I was in charge. Yeah, you are in charge alright.


The silence didn’t bother me anymore. No one was there to say something to me when I was singing, very much out of tune and with the wrong lyrics. No one could judge me from now on. I could very well just somersault my way into the barely standing wooden door across me and break it through. I could put a fish in my ear and listen to its secrets, if I could find any fish that is. I could gargle bleach and spit it on the floor. Is that the coolest thing you could think of, pathetic.


I kicked the wooden door instead. It’s good to be home.


“Honey, I’m home,” I yelled. The sound travelled back into my own ears. The stone walls stood there saying nothing. A hundred grey eyes were looking into my soul, and I could feel their disappointment. I took a step back and observed the place I was currently squatting at, it seemed different now that I was in charge. The usual smell of mold and the dampness weighing down on me felt different. I felt like I was floating on a river now, my nose directly touching one of the moss-covered stones that have been under the sun for way longer than it should have been. The walls looked too crowded. They made me feel like I was being watched, judged, coming at me from all sides. All eyes were on me and they were expecting me to do something about the current situation. As much as I didn’t like change, it was my new normal from now on. It was my decision to step up to the throne. Not like I had any competition. You are gonna be a great queen.


I jumped on the beat down couch and immediately regretted it. The barely beige monstrosity called Ektorp, threw a spring at my ass and the stuffing flew everywhere. I didn’t move. I didn’t make a sound. Surely it would understand the mistake it had made. I only had to be patient. That’s all I had to do now anyways. Be patient. Wait for the perfect moment the tide turns so I can run and grab as much as kelp I can to dry under the sun. Wait for the perfect moment, sometimes for weeks for an animal to stumble upon where I am waiting so I can watch it die and eat its remains. Nothing remains.


I couldn’t stay inside too long today. I had to start changing the way things worked around here. I shook some of the soot that had gathered on my black skirt. I had to find a new place to live, first and foremost. Someplace where the doors and the walls didn’t judge me. I buried my head deep into my hoodie and adjusted my prosthetic leg. It didn’t really serve any purpose other than keeping me balanced when I stand. All the money people poured into making it, the brains behind the technology behind it. It was incredible how they had managed to put a working phone charger in there. Well, it used to be a working phone charger, now it gathered dust. There were no more phones necessary after all. I took my weapon from besides the door. A simple staff with a sharp stone attached to it. It may sound too simple, but you must understand I have no knowledge on how to make stuff. This is quite enough for when I have to reach things or poke things. Oh, and I almost forgot my gun! I have a gun too. I never use it because there are very few bullets left in it and in the world probably. I can still chuck it in someone or something’s face if necessary. I went back to get my backpack. The broken shards of glass screamed beneath my brick-like feet. I screamed back. I was in charge. Why didn’t anything seem to care? That’s why I’m leaving you here!


I was walking down the street, a little limpy, not even groaning at the pieces sticking to my feet anymore. I can’t make the feeling of gravelly asphalt between my toes under the sun go away but I can choose to not yell about it. There is nothing on the streets other than wrecked buildings and their pieces. Shards of glass and cement pieces the size of my head just raining down sometimes. For a bit of fun there are nails sticking out from unforeseeable places making me yelp but I have gotten pretty good at avoiding them by this point. I mean what is one more infection to my calloused, dying body am I right? You never are.


I can barely breathe under my cloth mask. The ashes and dust penetrates my every hole. You heard me! Every. One. There are no buildings or houses around me at this point. The sun had gone to sleep a few times leaving nothing but me and the moon to look at each other but I lost count because I was too focused on breathing in and out without swallowing too much dust. I had passed almost 3594 pieces of wrecked building parts while walking. None of them looked good enough to squat in. They all looked at me as if I was pathetic and lonely. You are. 3670 parts of broken glass.


My body felt stiff, but I wasn’t exhausted. The feeling of the paper was still etched inside my nails. It didn’t go away no matter how far I walked. What was left to oversee other than me? I sat down right where I was walking. I started drawing mindless shapes on my dust covered leg. Do I still exist if there is no one there to exist with me? Well, of course I did you emo bastard. I just existed for me and me only. I had never been freer. No papers to tell me how long it took me to graduate and no paper to tell me who I was, what my name was at least. I now existed only in my own mind. So did the world. It was a small world. It was a free world. And it was a lonely one too. My nail beds were bleeding and I had reopened a wound inside my palm. Everything was itchy in this world. I hated it. I hated being in charge. You never were. You never will be.