I am the girl in the tower.
I have been here my whole life, or so it feels, for I cannot pinpoint when the tower grew around me, isolating me with only a window to watch the outside world from. And that I did: I watched and let my soul wander along the green field and join the children playing and become one of the teenagers falling in love in the shadow of a glorious tree. They were all around, yet so separate from me.
I wanted to yell, so desperately needing them to see me and save me from the tower, but never did they hear my screams or see my tears. I watched them pass by, without looking, or maybe, without being able to see me up there, leaning over the window, without any idea that I was there, in pain, trapped in the empty tower.
The walls around me are indescribable: neither stone, nor brick, neither smooth nor cracked, straight or crooked, they seem infinite and cold, like an inescapable shadow around me wearing me down to the same nothingness it was made out of.
One day, as I was leaning purposelessly on the window, I found a seed on the edge. It was small, but powerful, for it gave me a flicker, which became a wave that quickly developed into a tsunami of hope. I carefully let go of the seed and it fell at the base of the tower. Realism and skepticism were out the window too, and all I thought about was that maybe, just maybe, my seed will grow into a tall, wide tree and I could climb down the tree out the tower and be free. My life’s wish would be fulfilled, the possibilities: endless and the I became drunk and blind with hope and the newfound excitement of the world outside: I was given a chance to be like the other kids, happy and unbothered by the tower. For the first time, after wishing it for as long as I could remember, there was a chance for me to become normal.
In the tower, time is absent, as if it consciously avoiding me: days and night are equally endless and short, both chilly and gloomy, as the sun blesses all corners of the world with brightness and heat, without ever daring to let a mere beam of light shine through the window and inside the tower. The mighty wind itself is not braver as goes around the walls, but never in, making the leaves sing on the trees, a song I hear, but never feel. Only the rain ever barges in the tower, hatefully flooding and freezing, despising me more that even the tower itself. I hated it right back, pointlessly kicking and screaming at it. It’s supposed to bring life, but there is no point for that in the tower, so instead, it only came inside with rage and storm, punishing the tower for being so lifeless, and punishing me for being stuck inside, and starting to resemble the walls around me. But after the seed fell and my hope appeared, the rain was welcome. Of course, it would still flood and freeze the tower, but it was gentle with my tree, and, as far as enemies go, it became my closest friend.
For the first time, I felt the days pass and the seconds go as the seed became a little plant and I watched and dreamed of climbing down and changing. I was so sure in my hope, that the tree could save me. Each moment, a new possibility arose in my mind, a new dream a new idea, a new future, a future which the tower prevented me from having. I talked to the tree and told it my deepest desires, the tree never answered, and sometimes I wondered if anyone would. I talked and talked, spending my days on the edge of my window, looking the sky, wishing for the next cloud to curse me, but bless the tree, my escape, my savior. The plant became bigger, and yet it still never answered my cries and my cheers, but I loved it, I gave it all I had.
I was starting to distance myself from the gloomy dark walls around me and my soul felt lighter, but the tower didn’t want to let go. As the tree grew, so did the prison, and soon enough, I discovered that hope never came alone. I saw a future, but my dreams were poisoned by the darkness in the tower, and fear would come at night. Tired, yet sleepless, I started to doubt. My heart was heavy, between my unanswered love for the tree and my hatred for the tower… but did I really hate it and did it really hate me?
The tree grew, and I kept waiting. I could touch it with my fingers, but it was not time yet, I couldn’t go down, I might fall. The world outside might let me fall, maybe no one could catch me.
Now, the tree is big, and a branch keeps hitting the edge of the window. I know I have so much ahead, but I can’t see, my mind is trapped by the tower and I have become too similar to it. It’s a prison, and it’s lifeless, but it’s safe; the tree is filled with possibilities, but how many chances do I have? I don’t want to let the tower win, I want to escape, I have prayed for this moment, but I cannot leave.
I am the girl in the tower, and my tower is grey and dark, and empty, but it’s me. It’s all around, but most importantly, it’s in my mind. My tower, my fear, my storm, myself.
