Stranger

Hey Stranger

I have all these people around me. These people who love me but I can never find myself to talk as openly as I would like. There is always a wall that will stand between them and me. I build this wall and refuse to climb over it or let anyone break it down. When times comes, I might let the right person break it down or I will.

I subconsciously always refrain myself from telling you all my truest feelings because I don’t want my stories to burden you or I don’t feel comfortable telling them to you no matter how much I love you. I don’t know what the problem is, all I know is that I am not comfortable with crossing that boundary.

I hate myself for that, but I also don’t. I don’t think I can remember ever having much open conversations where I have laid out all my true feelings. This does not mean I lie to you, I just haven’t laid out the full picture. I have only given you the icing, the information I think is necessary or the maximum I can give. The whole cake remains, and I don’t think I will let anyone take that entire bite.

When I try to tell you it all, something happens that makes me not tell you. These might be excuses my mind conjures up into tricking not to say to you, but I believe these excuses. I feel like I let you open up completely, but you don’t want to do it for me. Maybe this is just my mind. I don’t know.

If I ever want to explode and spill out all my secrets and the feelings I am harbouring, I think I can only do it with a stranger because they don’t know me. We both are going in with zero contextual knowledge of each other. So I will not be afraid of them judging me or having to worry about how I am burdening them because we might never see each other again after this.
We can talk and talk and promise to never meet each other again until the next time or perhaps move onto another stranger to avoid all the connection with the previous.

I guess I feel more at ease about talking my truest stories or feelings with strangers because, with the people I love, I don’t know how to. I guess I am afraid of thier thought process when speaking to me and maybe of the words they would use to reply back.

It’s too complicated. I value your love, maybe that’s why it hurts. I am afraid of things changing after I tell you about what keeps me up at night. I guess I am not sure if I want to let you in on all my vulnerabilities or my thoughts.

I can’t seem to place a finger on what it is that is keeping me from exploding my secrets to you.
Perhaps it has been in my family and nature not to reveal too much of ourselves out to the world because then that is how they will perceive us, through pity eyes. Perhaps it is the doubt of you taking advantage of my vulnerabilities.
It is never one reason. It is a whole multitude of them.

I have always made up these stories of spilling out everything, having these talks I have always wanted to have with someone. I am not sure if it will ever function in reality, considering I can’t even share the truest of my feelings with my family and best friends.

It sucks, it’s not their fault. It’s mine. I can’t seem to do it. It looks so easy, but it is so hard.

When you ask me how I have been, I give answers such as I am fine, which I actually am. It’s there will always be these buried stories and pain with me that I can never truly get out in the open. It’s just there continuing to live alongside my life.
So I keep all this inside me, and I just let it be because that is how I have done and I don’t know anything that could change it now.

So that’s why I talk to you stranger because you know me because you are me, but I can’t even be brutally honest with you too because that would crush us both.

So Readers, I place the burden on you and spill out my secrets to you because it is your concern now. I am not afraid of you because you have become my vessel upon which I can spill onto. You hold me.

You and the world are now my strangers. You will always be my strangers. I tell you a majority of the story but never the whole truth because that’s just how. I hide the truth in lines I know you will never be able to decipher because that’s just how.
So in a way, I tell the whole truth. Sometimes.

Questions and Answers

( A white space surrounds the two people. The fog from the small window open creeps and settles in the room creating a hazy atmosphere.

Two black chairs are present in the middle of the white room with a black table separating them. They are on opposite sides of the table making it easier for them to talk

Various tools are kept on the table and the clock ticks but not so loudly where that tick becomes the only noise in the silent room.

They are on opposite sides of the table making it easier for them to talk)

Myself: I want you to just sit there and listen to me. When needed and appropriate, you may ask me questions to further question my thoughts but unless I say so, I do not want to hear an objection or a rebuttal. I just want you to sit there and listen to me.

Stranger: I understand, I will do as you asked me but before we begin. I want to know why me, a stranger? You could have had anyone but why choose to talk with a stranger?

Myself: I am sick of keeping every thought I have to myself and I want to share it with someone who doesn’t know me on any basis. I want to talk about things and begin a conversation on a new plate. I did not want to talk to anyone who knew of me because they will already have pre concived notions of me.

I wanted something different and some times a stranger seems to be the only one you can turn to because it feels liberating to talk to someone who doesn’t know you entirely so you can open up the deepest and darkest version of yourself withiut having to worry what they would think.

Stranger: I am not afraid. You can tell me whatever you wish and I will sit and listen. Now go on and liberate yourself.

Myself: I like my dark side. I have only imagined what it would feel like to embrace it and commit every sin I ever wanted. I do not know why I ever feel this way but that is what I felt. I always pushed it into the deepest corner of my heart telling myself this was all very foolish but I could not keep lying to myself any longer.

I wanted to know how it felt having someone’s life end by me. I wanted to be the reason to see true fear in their eyes. I tried it for the first time, I don’t think I enjoyed it very much but I liked it. I did it again and then I did not know when and how to stop.

With each people, I got a bit better and versatile.

No one wanted to listen to how I truly felt. No one ever bothered to ask how I was doing. No one ever bothered to find out anything. So I decided I wanted to do my sin.

Stranger: How did it feel?

Myself: Liberating…

Stranger: Why did you feel the way you felt before you did your sins? Why do you say no one listened?

Myself: I do not know. I had the best of friends. They were there for me when I needed them and I guess I was there for them as well. I had fun times with them but none of my friends knew what I hid.

I felt like I wanted to talk but I couldn’t bring myself to it and in the case of my family, I felt by talking about my deepest feelings would concern or disappoint them. I felt at distress even at the thought of having to open up to people who knew me well.

Stranger: I understand why you chose to talk to a stranger now. Starting on a new front, very few people get that chance. I hope you don’t mind me asking but could you tell me how you did it?

What made you choose me and the people before me?

Myself: I do not know what reason to give. I guess I went with what my heart felt and well also with a bit of research. I was afraid of robbing the world of someone too good and pure, so I had to make sure.

Not that you were not good or pure, you did your sins and you know.

As for my process, I can tell you it is quite theatrical and simple. Something you might see in a movie but painted with a dose of reality.

A new person, a new different approach is what I go for many of the times.

I sit him/her down on the cold white floor that has not been used for a while. In the background, I play them their final song so that they can have something beautiful to listen to when they depart.

Each night would be a different song with a different person. I am going for the vibe I feel. Whilst the track plays, I listen to the words and then look out to the person sitting in front of me. I notice what they are doing in their final moments. I sit there and observe.

As the final note gets ready to end, I decide it’s time. I go behind, then choose a tool to slit their throat and watch the blood flow onto the white floor. What a beautiful colour, the blood. It would not be like the movies where the blood splatters. It would be like blood flowing gracefully to paint a picture.

I watch for a while and then decide to end the suffering. I do not know how I would end it but quick and easy is what I would go for. I guess my technique depends on the person and their virtues.

For a person with not so virtuous sins, slow and painful might be the route I would travel on and for the opposite, slow but quick is what I would choose.

After they depart, I get up from my chair, switch off the lights and leave. I do not look back because the show has ended.

Stranger: I see. It is interesting to hear what you said and I am sorry no one wanted to listen. Maybe they tried to make the effort but maybe you were not ready for it. I do not know what else to say but I am happy you talked your heart out. No secrets to burden you. You are liberated right? That is what matters.

I would like to ask you one more question. I apologise in advance if I have offended you but I need to know.

Have you ever considered killing someone close to you? Would you do it?

Myself: I am not surprised you would ask me that. I don’t know why, I expected it to be asked. Since no one asked, I did not think of an answer and now that I have been asked, I guess..

I guess when it comes to my family and my friends. I have thought about it but I would never commit it. I don’t think I could stand the thought of having their deaths by me. I don’t think my heart has it to look at their eyes as their life leaves them.

Stranger: A selfish answer but understandable. So now that I am done with the questions, do you have anything you would like to say?

Perhaps an other conversation before I am liberated of my sins.

Myself: No. No more conversation.

( puts on a song from a carefully curated list)

So, Here is the deal, you listened and that is all I ever wanted. You listened giving it all you got while others listened in sheer fear.

I forced them but they didn’t listen. I forced you but you listened.

So here is what. I will let you choose. Slow and quick? Easy and quick? Slow and painful? Easy and painful?

Stranger: Slow, easy and quick. Would that be possible? I would like to relish my life one last time before I leave. I do not do well with pain.

Myself: Your wish is my command.

(takes the decorating knife from the varied selection and slits throat leaving an extravagant design on my neck)

Stranger: (Watches with all curiosity and confusion) What does this mean? Why?

Myself: (mustering up all the courage and strength for one last sentence) You listened.

The lights start to flicker. The colour fades, the room disappears, yet the tools on the table still remains.

Stranger: (wakes up groggily and confused) Where am I ?

Myself: That was quite the sleep you had there. You must be very confused now.

All what happened in your sleep was defintely true except for the last. That is what I call your imagination taking the best of you. You do not need to know the details of how and when your imagination took the best of you.

Everyone before you listened, doesn’t mean it makes you special enough for me to give you up.

So, now that is done, I am sure you are well rested for what I have in store for you.

(Muffled screams try to escape the room but of no avail, stranger cannot be heard and will never be heard. Creative and intruguing ways to kill are being done with different tools. A new person, a new different approach.

The screams stop, the walls are decorated with red. The job is done. Out the black door, I walk out with a smile plastered on my face.

I have done my confession and my sin.

Who next? )