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Rated: ASR · Other · Emotional · #1100852
The story of a boy who cannot leave his home.
Jonathan Mayner stood at 5’4”; with dark brown hair neatly trimmed, and eyes the color of a cloudless sky. And in the world that he knew; he was not special; he was the same as everyone else. He had likes and dislikes, wishes, dreams. He liked the color red, disliked rainy days. Wished he was taller, and dreamed of nothing else but seeing the outside world.
The speedometer read something close to seventy-seven, as Jonathan continued down the same old street he had seen many times before. He knew that as soon as the paint began to fade there would be a pot-hole, and his final stop ten miles after that. This street was no different from any other. Every street emerged from the center of town and ended for no reason, for there stood the wall at the end of every street, the limit to the world Jonathan knew.
Jonathan looked straight on, the hole behind him, and the wall in front. Padding his pockets he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and set to work calming his nerves, he always felt nervous seeing the wall. The beer stashed under his chair would have probably worked better, but Jonathan wasn’t in the mood for warm beer, maybe later. Taking a drag on his light he headed towards the end of his world, and the start of another one, a world he feared he would never see.
He arrived home late that night, his afternoon consisting of driving to the wall and back; with a few smoke and beer breaks along the way, a typical afternoon for Jonathan. Reaching into the glove box he pulled out mints and strong cologne his older brother had used on similar excursions. Jonathan was only sixteen, and sixteen year olds weren’t supposed to smoke or drink, but everybody did it, including his brother Max. Jonathan was no different from anybody else, especially Max.
Dinner was on the table by the time he got home. His father and mother sitting across from each other, both lost in prayer. Jonathan sat himself down quietly, not even bothering to pray. Taking time to notice his brother’s empty chair across from him.
“Amen” The Mayner’s said together, Jonathan chiming in at the last second.
“So where were you today?” His father asked scooping potatoes onto his plate.
“Nowhere.”
“Well you had to be somewhere, since you weren’t at the shop like I asked you to be.”
“George?!” Mrs. Mayner said looking rather distressed.
“I just forgot.”
“Forgot my ass, you were at the wall again weren’t you?”
“George please ?!”
“How many times do we have to tell you? Stay away from there, you have no business with what’s over there.”
“What about Max? He went over the wall?” Mr. Mayner slammed his fists on the table.
“That bastard abandoned us Jonathan. He left us to go do whatever the hell he felt like doing, he didn’t need us, and we don’t need him.”
“How can you live like this, knowing you trapped here, knowing that there’s something larger out there?
“We moved here to avoid what’s out there. The wall keeps us safe. You both just never understood that.”
“But I want to know what’s out there. Don’t you understand that?” Mr. Mayner said nothing. “Max was right to leave, it’s impossible to dream inside your wall.”
“Jonathan Phillip Mayner, don’t you walk out on us too!” Mr. Mayner’s voice trailed off as Jonathan rushed outside and started his car, going to the only place that gave him comfort.
It was late when he finally arrived, and he just stood against his car, the lights left to shine on the massive thirty-foot structure that barred his exit. The wall stretched all around the town, and Jonathan had seen almost all of it, but always came back here. For just a few feet above the ground, caught in the glow of the headlights was written.
“Only 30ft. to Dreamland, 11/02/95,
-Max Mayner.”
Jonathan had seen those words many times, and standing there in the cold and breezy night he took out another cigarette. What he wanted was on the other side of the wall, but thirty feet never looked so high. And as he turned back to look at the town; home never looked so far away. He took a long drag on his cigarette, and stood there all night, alone.
© Copyright 2006 Alacer Orina (cemerso2 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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