I didn't know… I didn't know the winds could feel, the trees could cry, or the grass could scream. They could feel. They could weep.
Struggling to stand near the Gate of Blackpool, I fled: Past the streets and highways, I ran, leaving everything behind me till I found myself in a forest, till I found tranquility and silence. Tears rolled as I shuttered near a lone tree, clenching my arms tight as shutters rippled like strings of an instrument through my mind.
Sweat streamed from my brow for a long time, but the tremors didn't stop. I could still recall the fear, the hate, the loathing pinching against my skin, the shame slithering up my clothing, humiliating me, making me want to scream. It was sickening. So sickening.
