A man drives his car very fast down an empty road. It’s night time. It’s raining. I am standing outside, my face turned up to the sky. This is the last time I will feel the rain on my skin.
I am leaving soon, going back home. Or what was once my home. My old life seems almost a dream now, nothing compared to this one. I have no desire to go back, but nor do I have a choice. I was only supposed to be here for a short while before I returned. I have stayed far too long and they are calling me back. I don’t want to go, but if I don’t they will come for me. I don’t want them here. I have grown far more attached to this world than I could ever have imagined. If they come here they will see that. They will say that I am weak. Like a human. They will destroy my world. My home.
They don’t have love there. They don’t understand it. I didn’t understand it, not at first, but I came to in time. I have fallen in love a hundred times over, with the sky, the sea, the trees. With animals and humans and the beauty they create. The books, the music…how I shall miss the music. I see the colours and the shapes of it in the air. I feel it in my very soul. How could a world so bad create something so wonderful?
Another car drives past. There is a dog sitting on the back seat. The dog sees me and puts its paws up to the window. I start to cry, my tears mingling with the raindrops on my face. I have so little time left. I have not yet said goodbye. I’m not sure I am able to. I have a family here, a family who love me. And I am leaving them, breaking their hearts as well as my own. Perhaps this is why they don’t understand love; surely it cannot be worth the pain it causes. It is though, it is. That’s what makes this world so special, what makes humans so special. Their capacity to love.
I remember the day I arrived. I saw the sun set for the first time. I lay on the grass and gazed at it in wonder, unable to believe something so magnificent could exist in a world so ugly. I stayed there for the whole night, staring up at the sky. That’s when I began to forget why I came here. That’s when I began to think of this world as home. I found peace here. I found a place where I belonged.
I am moving now, changing. I twist and curve and begin to drift upwards, into that dark beautiful sky. Up through the clouds. Further and further away. They sense I am coming. They’ll be waiting for me, waiting to hear what I have seen. I’ll tell them what I have to, but no more. They can’t go there, not ever. It’s my world. It belongs to me now. And I’ll never let go.