Watcher
By Casey Douglass
As part of #fridayflash
My head has always been
a little empty. Even from a young age, I was content to sit and
watch, rather than take part and control.
I watched my granddad
fall to the ground when his heart gave out. People fussed around him.
I sat serenely in the background, shiny eyes funnelling the scene
into my six year old brain.
I watched a girl get
raped at high-school. Nobody knew I was sitting quietly under the
large conifer hedge, half forgotten Wuthering Heights slipping from
my fingers. My brain absorbed and filed, my body just a tripod for my
head.
I watched the car get
closer through the lens of my sixteenth birthday present, rapidly
taking shots so the moment was preserved. Weightlessness and rushing
air ruined the last few, but my finger click clicked as my body
disintegrated.
I watched so much in
life, and now death has opened up new vistas. Walls and doors matter
little when you are composed of ether and willpower. My brain is
hungry for strange sights and any exotic view. I’ve watched and
I’ve watched and I’ve watched...and now I am watching you.