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by Sara Harricharan  
3/05/2010 / Short Stories


How do you like me? The color of my hair the color of my eyes how do I seem? Am I sane? Do I fit into your little puzzle of reality? Is this your idea of normality?

Insecure. Everywhere.

I see my shadow and I'm scared. You are watching. They are watching. I am watching too. What is it what are we watching? Do you know me? Do you really care? Who am I? Am I nothing, no one to fear? You pass me. I see you. You say nothing.

I hate you.


It's biting at me. I can see it, I can feel it, but somehow it's still bugging me. I do not want to fit in, but you make me think I do. I don't want to follow your instructions, your rulebook cannot tell me what to do. But I follow.

Insecure. Everywhere.

Blinding. Falling. Wishing. Knowing.


Can you feel me? Can you touch me? Do you understand? Are you blind? I think I hate you. I do not know. I don't see you, anywhere I go. You must be fading. Your hold is slipping. Your grip is gone on my slice of reality.

Is this normal? I will not tell you. I do not want you to know who I am. I know me. I know you. That's enough, what about you?


I can feel you. I can touch you. I can make your heart burn inside. Because I am real. I take risks. I do not deny that there is a calling. That there is a future. That there is a God. I am loud. I am bold. I may be strong through Him.

You do not understand. But that is fine. I do. It makes perfect sense. I don't think I hate you. Not anymore, today. I still cannot see you, your picture is blurring. Fading. Burning in flames you disappear. In light I am standing here.

Do you know me?

Insecure. Everywhere.

Bite me. I dare you. Take a piece of this reality. Taste it. Savor the salt of creativity. It is different. So very different. I will not tell you otherwise. But it is real. So very real.

I can see you. Again. I can hear you. But I will not touch you. Not again. Your words cannot hurt me. Your cuts do not sting. Your insults rain down everywhere, bouncing off my shield.

I can't hear you. Not the things you say, the things you do, that scream louder every day. I can't see you, not the way you pretend to be, but who you are, is the poster-childfor insecurity.

You are my fear. You are powerless. You are in my head. You are no longer

You were my fear. You were powerful. You were in my headbut no longer

I can hear Him. I can see Him. He is reaching for me. In my headin my heart.

Insecurity. Nowhere.

Sara Harricharan is a young Christian woman with a passion for writing for the Lord through faith-filled Science Fiction/Fantasy stories and pure words.

Article Source: WRITERS

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