Infinite (sounds, words, feelings, vibes)

I walked, not standing still. The air rushed around me in wonder- bone dry and smelling of car exhaust, steam mills, sewers, and of people. Crisps, pressed, walking people. It was a miracle that I could still call it amazing, and yet…I…still believed in the air and wind to be special, like it was free from all turmoil. But…that is not true since everything that wanders the small, small world has some horrible demon to carry on its' back. A scared, filthy, shadowy demon that does nothing but cause pain and misery. Only a fool, sad to say the world's full of them, would try and say the demon does not rule their lifestyle.

My demon, I must say, is the wall that surrounds the city. Snobs at my school say I act and talk about it like it surrounds me. I don't believe them, why should I? But I can't help but wonder what lies outside our city? Everybody speaks a different language. Everyone has a varied lifestyle. Yet we all stayed cooped up together, no one breaking down the wall after shouting "ENOUGH! I CAN'T TAKE LIVING WITH YOU PEOPLE ANYMORE!" because a war was shaking a community.

Looking around the street I needed to cross, I had came back to reality from my wild self-rants, I saw a sight. A very usual sight. Cars, pedestrians, unreadable street signs. They were unreadable because I either didn't speak the language it was in, or because it was so tarnished with the lovely droppings of city-living. People stood all around me. They had money, power, and a person who'd walk on pigeon poo for them. Everyone seemed to have one of those nowadays. All except the humble little apartment complex I belonged to. The AAR apartments. A tall, shabby, but colorful building. Colorful, that is, on the inside. We blend-we've caused trouble at one point in time for our little part of the city, and we've never done that again. So much pain for such a…beauteous idea…shunned in the face of our…everything. It was like we were at a house and someone closed the door in our faces.

Mutter, that's all I can do now, mutter. But I mutter on the city. That wall's not good-for-nothing, you should know. I doubt you do…but who am I?

The tall shiny building I call a school invites and repels me. I crave to learn…to understand. But…I feel like we miss the whole side of the story. The side…never told for generations…a precious few to hold it tight, never let it go or falter in retelling. A skill or craft preserved since ancient times, from Mesopotamia to the ancient forms of the lands we call Greece, Egypt, and China. Maybe even earlier than that, though I doubt it.

Years spent there, and so many children don't truly learn. All they get is knowledge. So many people are like that in this city. Nobody comprehends now…they just stop at the laws of gravity. But…why did Sir Isaac Newton call gravity gravity?

The wall is so large…covered with disgusting things that animals extort, pens used by many hands, and the presence of many invisible people. People that don't exist anymore. Chanting and chanting "Break 'em down! Break 'em down! Break 'em down! The wall! How it holds us!" over and over…just tormented.

I myself had put a helping hand into changing the wall. I've painted on things that surely exist outside the wall. We've, the people who decide without really consulting everyone else, put people on top of it, but they never look over. Just down. Down at the familiar, same scene. Year after year…time after time.

A ware down…sent troubles in our city. We had to expand outward. To many homeless people, jobless people, deadly people. Fair officials let the people with the beauteous ideas go first…no…we've tried for years to break it on our own. So hard…bulldozers and wrecking balls. They tore at the wall…it took time, the leaders hurried and pushed. We, I guessed blindly since I have no experience in this, were running out of time.

But, lo! The wall crumbled! Debris lie everywhere. We all stared at the remainder of what held us so long. For an hour, maybe more all we did was stare at it. For once, my brain was quiet. Soft sounds of a gentle breeze came and went. Hearts pounded. Demons watched from our backs. The chanting of the people that don't exist stopped.

Finally we looked up. All we saw was grey. Nothing beautiful or glorious. Just grey. I jerked my head up as I saw a white bird fly by. Courage filled me as I heard a song about a white bird play its delicate melody in my head. Stepping on to the grey, my foot felt a soft and velvety sort of texture through my shoe. I started to stroll, and I looked over the edge of the grey. It had jutted out turning into a cliff. A scary, black bird flew up and narrowly missed my face.

Looking over to the horizon that it had disappeared into, we all saw a new and amazing sight. By then the people I live with had also joined me. They were silent, the other city-dwellers were quiet, and I was suddenly mute. At the horizon line, a ball of fire had erupted. It showed us what lighted the sky-we had only knew that a blue sky meant day and a black one night.

The sky-fire was it for all who hadn't crossed the line. They began to walk away. But we stayed. We're still here. I don't know if we aged and died…leaving our spirits here to stay…or if we're now ageless. All I know is that years after, few people have crossed over to be with us. Many have threatened to put their foot down…but they never do. And I also feel as though a new wall is being built. An invisible wall this time. But…all I know now is it's infinite…the sounds, smells, words, actions…all infinite! An infinite number of sounds! An infinite number of vibes! All to…time held…


"They say time heals all wounds.But what if time is the illness?"

Hello! I'd like to explain how I was inspired to write this. The 2 things that helped this story were: The one poster in the choir room and the band called "Infinite Number of Sounds".

Infinite Number of Sounds was in the title (I was originally going to have it be Infinite Number of Sounds, but decided against it) and the ending. Plus the quote/dialog at the end is from one of their songs. And I made it a little crazy looking on purpose. (The quote is "They say time heals all wounds. But what if time is the illness?")

The poster in the choir room was a quote from someone (I either don't remember who or I never saw the name). It was: "Break 'em down. Break 'em down. Break 'em down. These walls between us."That sort of helped with the wall idea. And it was almost what the people that don't exist (aka ghosts) chanted.

Pink Floyd's song "The Wall" also popped into my mind a bit while making this. And "White Bird" by It's a Beautiful Day was the song 'I' herd when 'I' saw the dove.

I would also like to say that the city is Earth, communities are countries, people being put on top of the wall are astronauts looking down from the moon, the demons are our own personal bane in life, the people looking at the city are immortal people in art such as Picasso or Mozart (but when I was writing the people who stepped out were hippies), and the invisible wall is sort of for the reader to decide.

You can ask me if you have any other questions. I left a lot of space for you to leave little notes on or corrections. I hope you enjoyed this.