5 Aurora

Flashing lights around me- red, blue and, white. Glimmering in the dark and barely lighting my heart. A mirror broken into million pieces lies on the floor inside. Each fragment lies alone, alone as I am now. The time for pride has long past. One mother and no father, fatal too much? I want to believe that there are worse things in life. At least that's what they want to hear. My smoky red lipstick glues those shattered pieces and makes life easier. Walking down the streets, heads revolve around me. And all those heads alone have the same question: 'will those lips ever be mine?'

Perhaps, perhaps not. Who am I to know? Their only job is to ask and mine is to think.

Flowers make me happy, as every other cliché girl. I am not going to pretend that I am different. Although some men might argue that I am. That I don't belong in this world. It is okay that they should think that way. My mom did say that I am her special girl. Same did my boyfriend. May God rest his soul.

Funny thing, lately I have been thinking that I am cursed. I want a boyfriend is the phrase that has always came from my mouth, all back to the time when I was five. My mother and my aunts always laughed at that innocent mind of mine. They say it's a men's world. But, I only see boys around me. Where have all the good men gone? Guess I should ask my mother because her husband was the last one of them. Pity he should die like that, the same way like my boyfriend. Coincidence?

Anyway, it feels very empowering to walk in the middle of the street. Flashing lights around me- red, blue, and white. Glimmering in the dark, lighting my heart. Lighting my way up to a small sanctuary. Cobble stairs, long and wide as those in front of heaven. Every step on them- one confidence plus; especially carried by two people from both sides makes you feel like flying because your feet barely touch the ground. Get it? You don't touch the ground. But those stairs and my red smoky lips are irresistible, it is known.

Up and down as life it is. I only go up and I can't turn back and on that heavy road I meet a bright pale face, a bright melancholic face that says:

"Welcome to St. Maria's Insane Asylum, I hope you enjoy your stay."

"Thank you dear, I'm sure I will."

Note:

Dear readers,

This part is going to be the last one of the short stories' book "Old Storytellers and Young Listeners". I hope you enjoyed them and learned something from them. Although this is my first book to publish on Wattpad, it is also the first genre that I have written concerning mental health. I want to shed some light on it after five written stories with five different characters. My main message to you is that mental health is very complicated and it is no joke. This are mere examples of people that life hasn't been fair to. Even though each of them are fictional, I am sure that out there, there are many examples of how these people have been treated unfairly by society. Inspired by real life events and stories I felt an urge to write about them.

Moreover the title suggests that all of them are old people that tell a tale, but I would like to add that the old doesn't have to mean old in age, they could be old in mind and old in soul, harsh life could make you feel old. On the other hand the young listeners aren't only the characters in the stories, but the readers as well because every never heard before story you hear from someone makes you the younger one in that position. I hope this brings bigger attention to this group and if you have someone in your circle that needs help, company or a simple nice word, don't hesitate to do it. Your effort in providing help won't be in vain.