'How long can I endure?'
My second time I asked myself this question and the answer is…
'When boredom begins.'
'Endure.'
Endure what? Why should I endure it and how am I doing so?
'Temptation…'
The temptation to open and enter these doors. The human curiosity to know what's behind the door loomed over my mind.
I was just standing over a door, my legs spread wide, my feet on the doors beside it and both my arms clutched the knob.
'A weird position if I do say so myself but is there anyone here to judge me?'
Except that paranoia inducing gaze there's nothing else. So, yes I can do whatever I want.
'Well, not really but I can do it without the fear of being judged.'
Being judged for your whimsical actions, ideas and thoughts is one of the worst feelings ever.
And most of the time, you would be telling or doing it as a joke but there would be that one person who would take it seriously.
Anyways.
'Onto more serious matters.'
Fun fact– I, yes I, can open the doors.
And until now I was resisting the temptation of opening them and well…
'I'm bored.'
So…I'm going to open them.
'What is the worst that could happen? A jumpscare perhaps?'
I thought as I twisted the knob and pulled the door open to the side, it swung open and stopped when it collided into my left leg.
And I, in the uncomfortable and unusual position, stared into the world beyond the door.
One second…
Two seconds…
Three seconds…
Four…Five…
It took a whole five seconds for me to comprehend the sight before me.
'This is…'
The bus.
The school bus that I woke up inside, the school bus from my childhood.
It was the empty school bus I woke up inside.
But now– It wasn't empty anymore,
It was far from that.
Middle schoolers sat alongside each other on their seats, the scenery through the window was with a clear sky and a black roadi it wasn't the void anymore.
The kids talked, teased and played, sometimes their games getting out of hand and earning a shout from the tall driver.
The kids were humans, they had human features on their faces, they had four limbs and nothing, I mean nothing seemed out of place.
'Except that child.'
Everything except that one child was normal, the blurry faced kid who was seemingly arguing with another one with visible features.
I just watched the silent argument, my eyes glued onto the two of them without a care for the others in this uncomfortable position.
'I know I said that others judging you feels very bad but imagine judging yourself?'
'I am judging myself right now for this atrocity of a position…'
Anyways, back to the bus.
The kids were arguing, pointing, and shouting. Their heated argument in silence drew the attention of the other kids nearby as they stared at the two of them in intrigue.
The blurry faced child held a toy, a familiar toy, a very very familiar toy.
The visible faced kid pointed at the blurry one, shouting and accusing, his eyes on the toy.
'Poor young me…getting bullied.'
Yep, a bombshell of information.
That blurry faced kid is indeed me.
'Why is his- I mean, why is my face blurry though?'
Eventually the argument got physical, the visible guy pounced at the toy in little me's hand and refused to let go.
'Then it got into a tug of war situation and I…'
As I just stated, it indeed got into a tug of war situation. Both were unyielding to let go as their pride depended on it.
…
Except one…
'I purposefully let go of it, no, more like I pushed it into his face…'
And…due to his pulling power and my pushing power, the toy's sharp plastic corner stabbed into his face.
'I know, it's pretty bad but we were just kids right???'
Wrong.
It stabbed right into his eyes, Right into his fucking eyes.
Baam.
I closed the door shut and got out of my uncomfortable amateur yoga mom stance.
And with an eventual sigh I plopped down onto the door and laid down on my back.
'Well, well, well.'
That was…boring to say the least.
Yes, I stabbed a kid in his eyes with a toy, he tried to take it from me…well not really I once promised him I would give it to him but who can trust kiddy promises?
'I didn't regret it then nor did I realize how bad it actually was.'
The toy was the bloodied toy I found on the driver's seat when I woke up in this reality.
It happened long ago, I even forgot that I did such a thing to be honest.
I wouldn't have remembered it if not for the bloodied toy and this glimpse into my memories.
I stared into the white ceiling with countless thoughts assaulting my peanut sized brain.
'I feel like shit.'
Dammit.
'I mean, yes he didn't have any clue about personal space or anything like that and he clearly ignored my reluctance but…he was still a child.'
Important note– still a child excuse doesn't work on every issue, only on certain ones.
'I didn't face any consequences for that…and to be honest I don't even remember what happened to him after that.'
I'm the worst.
…
'Anyways, onto more important matters.'
That being my blurred up face.
'What about it?'
What isn't about it? Why is my face blurred?
Some may argue that it's just the liminal space aesthetics, well it actually is but why the face though?
"Is it symbolic or nah?"
That's the important question.
'When I returned to my room and stared at the mirror I had no reflection.'
It can either be for aesthetics or it can be symbolic.
If it's symbolic then I'm 70% sure it's from my memory.
'30% being the usual paranoia.'
So, what is it? Symbolic or non symbolic?
…
'I really do feel like trash.'
…
"I think that's enough for the end of day negative two."