She remembered when a teacher would call out names followed by students answering, “Here!”
“What is here?” she questioned in her mind. Thoughts were racing around like Indy cars scheming up all kinds of negative scenarios.
“The insanity of it all,” she muttered.
As a child her imagination ran wild. She flew like a bird, battled dragons and lived in a castle in the sky. It was profoundly fun to outrageously dream. She wondered what happened to it, because all she imagined now was bad reality. Always seemed like there was something. She didn’t see herself as a vindicating heroine anymore.
“What would it be like to be the hero of my own story again?” she whispered under her breath.
She wanted to find some like-minded people who were easy-going and carefree to help out. A few kindred spirits who wouldn’t hesitate to drink lattes, eat ice cream, or plan go to a horror flick on Friday and a Shakespeare play on Sunday. Maybe someone to stay up late with to watch the stars and to get up early to greet the sun. How about a cocktail on a whim without waiting for 5 o’clock to roll around?
The people she knew were always hung up on something though. Adults who couldn’t seem to get over it or crawl under it, whatever there “it” was. She could make a long list of “it” things, including hundreds of unspoken societal rules. Suppression playing out like Pennywise from IT, lesser or greater, “I can’t eat ice cream because it will make me fat. I can’t do that I’ll look stupid. I can’t do that I’m not good enough. I can’t do that I’m too old. I can’t do that I don’t have enough education. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.” Can’t more often than not becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy.
The horror of nonsensical self-deprecation brought her back to the present moment. Here. Hope wavered in her heart like a red balloon.
Questions zoomed across her thoughts, “Why the hell are we so mean to ourselves? Do we have to be terrorized by this Pennywise? Can “it” be vanquished?”
Then she decided, “Yes, it can. Together.”