What actually is a scary story?
The girl who made the wrong decisions would tell you that growing up is the scariest story of all.
She would start out with a deep shaky breath.
“Well...” She’d breathe. If she were standing in a room, on a stage, under a spotlight, in front of a vast audience that to her appeared to be nothing but one huge silhouette, the crowd would be crossing their fingers in hopes of the poor girl not breaking down on stage right then and there. Not in front of them. Save that for backstage, behind the scenes. Not in front of them.
However, the girl would shake off her nerves, and would start out with explaining how she thought it was because she was gay.
Though, she’d pause, and the crowd would hold their breath. They’d lean in and tilt their good ears to the stage as she continued explaining how she now sees that sure, it did start there, but not at her sexuality. The real reason was sitting in the background of the photo, smiling for sure, but not as noticeable as the ones in the front, with the flash on their faces.
So what of it? Who was that forgotten one?
The girl would explain that she was keen on forgetting who it was- could never put a name on him at parties, on the phone...And God forbid any level of distraction get in the way, be it something she disliked or something she wanted. Every so often however, this nameless face or a friend of theirs would run up to her, and scream-
“IT’S DECISIONS! YOUR DECISIONS! THE GOOD ONES YOU MAKE IN THE SITUATIONS YOU’RE IN!”
Mostly all of the crowd would jump and gasp, but the ones who saw it coming didn’t move a muscle.
“Oh!” She’d slap her palm to her face. Of course, she would explain, it was the Good Decisions she was constantly forgetting about.
And the people in the crowd would turn to their right and turn to their left at this point, with puzzled looks on their faces. How could someone forget about Good Decisions?
“It’s easy,” the girl would answer the question that none of the people were brave enough to ask her. She’d say that she forgot about herself. And when she remembered, it didn’t seem to matter enough to care. And in doing that, she disregarded the people who regarded her.
This kept on happening, she would say out into the audience. “And every time Good Decisions reminded me of who he was, I went and forgot all over again.”
So one day, the world gave up on her. It wasn’t like she didn’t see it coming- she would have to reassure the rustling crowd- but she couldn’t conceptualize its actuality until it was the life she was living. Until she coulldn’t have what the world had to offer anymore.
And she would say that it was scary.
To wake up and have to function like the adults we’re all told we will one day be, and to do so when your peers are still going to those parties and talking on their phones and being distracted by those things they dislike and those things they want. To follow paths that are not paved for you, but that you have to pave yourself as you take each step.
She realized, she would whisper into the huge silhouette, that as much as she may have wanted this life, she would do anything to take her old one back. She was living within the confinements of a bubble, took a pin, and popped it in thin air.
“And that’s it,” the girl would say to the crowd. The lights would cut on and shine the faces of each and every person in the room, and show that they were quite unsatisfied. And it would not disappoint the girl, because she would know that dissatisfaction was inevitable. She can’t make anyone happy if she can’t make herself happy.
The girl would scan for her parents in the masses of people, and instead find Good Decisions. He would shake his head and mouth, “Look at them.”
She would, look out into the sea of people, and they would look back at her in disgust. It would make her feel sick.
“Why are you all looking at me like that?” The girl would sink to the floor and put her head in her hands, sobbing.
“Because you did nothing but drown in your despair.” Good Decisions would respond.
“But I got through the hard times and lived to tell my story!” Her response would sound muffled and tear-filled.
“No you didn’t.”
The girl would open her eyes, and look down to find herself laying on a path that had ceased to go further. She would feel herself sinking into the ground beneath her, and close her eyes, knowing that she would not open them again.
What a ridiculous dream, she would think to herself. I haven’t had one about growing up since I got here.
And then she would disappear.
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