Inner Conflicts
Ken ran through the fog infested forest, panting for breath, the trees battering their branches into his path. " Follow the path", the deep, hollow voice said again," follow the path... follow...follow ".
"No!", Ken screamed ," you can't control me, NO!"
Ken's body jerked up out of the covers, covered with sweat. He slowly came back to reality and his breathing quieted. Just another dream, he told himself, just another dream. "The same one you've dreamt since his death ", his inner self whispered," the same one".
"No.", Ken said. He looked out of the window in his attic room. Sunlight shined through it, casting a bright yellow duplicate on the floor. The sky was light blue, the birds were chirping. "Just another dream ", he said out loud as he got up.
He walked down the stairs. The smell of pancakes filled the air and he could hear eggs sizzling in the kitchen.
" Morning, Mom ", he called as he walked in.
" Good morning, Ken. Your father is working in the garden. He wants you to work on trimming the hedges when you're done." She set his breakfast in front of him. He mumbled his thanks and munched the food. She never paid much attention to him after his brother died. Ken relied on his father for attention.
He walked out into the fresh, crisp morning air. He took a deep breath and looked around. The trees were green and alive, dancing in the spring breeze. The snow capped mountains loomed in the distance, reminding of winter. Ken gazed at the forest, he'd seen it every day, but it was different all the time. His eyes fell to the oak tree, standing by the river like a guard. He remembered how he and Robert used to sit there after school and fish, and talk. With these thoughts came love, longing, sadness, anger, and depression at one time. Why did he have to think of his brother again? The trees looked dead and withered now, the mountains puny and weak. Ken sighed and walked down behind the house, his feet crunching on the fallen leaves.
He took the clippers out of the shed and walked along the path under the trees. The pines cast dark shadows in his path. They reminded him of demons. Demons. Demons had killed his brother.
His brother Robert was 5 years older than Ken and he was always the star of the family. He was the best baseball player in his school. He got straight A's in all his classes. Ken got B's and C's. Robert was always nice and talked to Ken all the time. Robert understood that he took all the attention from Ken. But Ken didn't care. He loved his brother. Robert was everything he wanted to be. Then all of a sudden, something happened. Robert quit the baseball team and hung around dingy friends after school. His grades dropped to D's and F's. He never talked to Ken anymore. Then he commited suicide. Ken never told his parents, but the night before he died, he came into Ken's room, slightly stoned. He said ," I don't think I can handle it any longer. My inner demons are killing me." And he turned and left, leaving Ken confused. The next morning they found him outside, shot through the head.
Everyone asked," Why did he kill himself for? He used to perfect. " But Ken knew. His inner demons had killed him. Ken clenched his fists. His inner demons wouldn't get him. He won't follow his brother's path. He raised his his fists. "I won't ", he cried," I won't fall prey to you!" He took the clippers and walked to the hedge and began to trim away the prominent branches. Even nature has to be kept under control sometimes. You have to keep your spirit under control, or it will become wild and overcome you. Robert was perfect on the outside, but inside he was faltering.
Ken looked at the rising sun, it's rays filtering through the clouds. The sun feels warm, it gives us light. But inside it, it is hot beyond imagining, a hell. Image isn't everything, and sometimes, neither are accomplishments.