I feel often as though I am in the wrong country.
That the language I have is incorrect and yet I do not know how to fix it.
There are no travel guides here and even if there were I wouldn’t be able to read them, for they’d be in that other language.
The one that I have lost.
Perhaps it is not my family that’s a country at war with itself .
Perhaps I am at war with myself?
Perhaps I am. Perhaps indeed I am.
With few parting words from my mother I was placed in the back of a car and driven for what felt like years away from the home that had held me captive for all that time.
My eyes grew tired from straining to take in all that there was to see.
My body ached and my head wanted to lay itself down and rest.
But there was no rest, not with the questions of why still racing through my mind.
Why was I going somewhere new and who would be there to greet me?
So I sat in the back.
Trying to blink in the colours of the deepening sky and the sparse trees that doubled in number and then grew into a forest of greenery the longer we travelled.
All those colours clashed and collided inside of my head.
I tried in vain, to count the number of guideposts that it took to get there, in case I should not like it and wished to return back to my other home.
But there were too many and they flew by my eyes like hail.
Fencing me in,
In a pen of their choosing.
I must have been asleep by the time we arrived. I remember nothing of entering my new home but rather I simply woke up in a new room with a translucent stranger hovering over me.
The figure smiled. ‘My name is Vonnie and I’m going to help you settle in and show you around. How would you like that?’
I must have smiled for she nodded her head at me.
Vonnie helped me up and showed me where the bathrooms were. I clutched my small bag of belongings to me as I scurried off to wash myself clean of the sins of reading .
For was that not what had gotten me into this mess in the first place?
My love of books?
To my mind at the time the answer was quite obviously yes.
I was there, in that very place, for that very reason.
I was being punished, once again, for loving beyond apparent reason, that which others did not, comprehend.