My Life is a Series of Actors {Nofo}

Talking
Doing
Deep Thought
Hearing
Pretending

In and out, out and in. I sit and watch the goings on of the house staff, and my mother and father. Watch as their unique shapes trundle in and out of the ornate gate, and I wait, waiting to seize my chance. Barbara coos at me rather reproachfully as we kneel behind the large tree, the trunk so thick with some growing weed I could almost lay down and still remain unseen. I second guess myself, knowing that this escapade could be the death of me. Okay, so maybe a little bit over dramatic, but just remember the fact that the last time I was out of the grounds was four months ago, a herd of people following me. But Barbara insists I should get out more, and so I shall. The part of this she does not appreciate is that I'm leaving her behind.

It's a lot harder to remain anonymous when a large snowy owl is following along behind you. For some reason people have a fixation on Barbara whenever we go out together, it is as if they have never seen one like her before. Which is completely ridiculous, if they would just open up their eyes they would see things like her almost everywhere. And it's even more ridiculous that I am the one trying to tell them to stop being so damned blind, when I am the one who don't even know the colour of their eyes. This tangent proves to be too distracting for the moment, and I almost smack myself with my stupidity. The area has been clear now for the last two minutes at least. I see my chance, and I grasp it, running my hand quickly along Barbara's downy fur, as I stand.

I break into a swift walk, my dim sight set on the shape of the closed gate. I tread carefully though, knowing that any moment my mother could glance out a window and spot me, but soon enough I am pushing out one of the heavy doors, and I am walking away from the house, not taking a proper breath until I have reached the corner, and freedom. Pure Freedom. A kick of excitement laughs its way up my spine, and I almost woop for joy. I cannot keep the smile off of my face as I begin to walk without much purpose. I go slowly, so I don't accidentally walk smack into a wall.

All I can see for the next twenty minutes are enormous shapes, hidden away behind the outlines of trees and other things, and I wonder how long it will take me to escape the residential area of District One. Soon enough, I do come across something different. A flat expanse of land greets me, and from it I hear shouts, and the sounds of people. The sun warming my pale hide, I duck into the area, keeping my head down low, in probable shyness. I don't quite know how to talk with people, in fact, the idea of it scares the beheebies out of me. The only problem with keeping my head down low, is that I can't see if there are any shapes in the way. The ground does not tell me much, it's so flat that it cannot be shaped. I slow down my pace, and try to enjoy the sun on my neck, enjoying the stolen moment.

I almost trip as I fall off of the pavement, and onto grass. Thankfully, I don't fall over, and as a result I don't make myself look like a total fool in front of everyone there. the sound of rushing water greets me, and I lift my head to gaze at the sound curiously. A tumbling shape continues to fall up into the air, and something clicks in my head, telling me it is a fountain. I carefully move forward until my feet find the basin and my shins almost bruise themselves on the concrete lip. Carefully, I reach into my pocket and pull out a polished stone, the only currency I own, and drop it in, my hand remaining in mid air as I make the only wish I'll ever make, over and over, until I find that girl. I wish for her of course, and I feel a bit better. I don't know how these things work, but in stories they just seem to.

I amble away again, my pocket suddenly lighter to match my soul, it feels as if I have stolen a rock from both, and it isn't an unwelcome feeling. Even when I walk into the back of a wooden bench, and throw my arms out to catch myself, I can't stop the grin from emerging. Being on one's behind isn't so bad. Besides, I didn't bruise myself much, just my ego a little bit as I notice a figure on the bench. I dust myself off, cautiously standing, pulling myself up by way of the top of the bench. I'm pretty tall for my age, and it wasn't much of a stretch. I guess you could say the reason I was so okay with it is because I am so used to it too. If being clumsy was a forte, well, I would be the professor of it.

I throw one gangly leg over it as I climb over to sit beside the figure. Not too closely, still enough room for a personal bubble to remain unpopped. Smiling lightly, I glance in the shape's general direction, and introduce myself, shyly clearing my throat. "Hello, I'm Atticus, nice to meet you." I dutifully wait for a response, and I wait for almost ten minutes before finally deciding that it isn't coming. Hesitantly, I reach over, to see if the person is okay, and when my palm lands on the cold knee, I flinch back in surprise. I wasn't expecting my first conversation with a person other than my parents to be with a statue, and I let out a long sigh as I lean back, apparently having the bench to myself.

When I look up, the sun is blinding, and so I reach into my pocket and pull out a pair of sunglasses. Not only are they a good way to block out unwanted rays, but they are a way to hide myself. I don't have to make sure to be looking a certain way when talking to anyone if I wear them because they can't see my eyes anyway. More fun for everyone because no one feels uncomfortable. I cozy up to the statue, allowing more space on the long bench, sort of waiting for my wish to come along without realizing that it was I was waiting for. It feels like I am always in a state of suspense, this watching and waiting. But I know that someday it will be worth it, when she finally gets here, and all my waiting will have been spent on her.