Whispered

Look at this. It's a picture of me, 12 years old, completely sullen. Knowing that someday I would break out of that, but not knowing when. How many hours had I spent waiting in purgatorial corridors? Touching decay, befriending dark walls. I thought I had heard it whispered, once, that my time would come.

And now these hands beckon me, stepping through Time's tunnel, strangely seeing that light that everyone claims is there when they are knocked unconscious. These people have it all marked with me. But there was no script, no plan for this. I walked it on my own. I walked until I stopped to embrace people on the way.

This was whispered to me, once, but I mostly ignored it. Who knew that I would get my peace, my happiness, that one day I would be equaled in those who poured themselves out to the world?

But it happened. What was whispered became true. I remember when people used to tell me "You should smile more." I have finally started doing that.

There is sun on my face. There is someone touching my hand, trusting me to do the right thing. Tell them. Don't only whisper. There is a future for you.

I listened to the trees, and everything was alive. This fact is whispered everywhere, through eternity.