I was normal, at least I thought I was. If no one ever tells you otherwise you live forever wondering but always coming back to the same conclusion, you are ordinary and normal. But then you wonder because I'm wondering am I normal?
Normal people don't wonder, they accept the facts and leave it at that. They never ask, "why is it raining?" they have already been told it is because the clouds get heavy with evaporated water then fall down. That is the basics of it but still the question of a non normal person asks,
"But why is it raining? I know what makes it rain but why does it rain? I know the trees and the plants need it and we need it but who ever came up with the idea of water falling from the sky? For some reason I doubt it is because some random cells bumped into each other and then caused a line of events that ended up with a world where water falls from the sky and birds fly and where people think and argue and love?" Well, that was only one of the many questions that lived in my head.
I had one problem. I was not normal and I had a hard time hiding it.
In my world that was unacceptable, you either followed what the person in front of you was doing or get pushed out of the line. I made one little mistake, the truth is I made mistakes all the time but I kept them all to myself. This mistake was saying what I was thinking out loud. I found myself in a storm of angry people and bitter remarks.
I was, according to tradition, pushed out of the line. At first I just sat down and mourned the loss of my perfect world, I knew it was not perfect but I liked to pretend it was. Now I had to face the fact that I had been fooling myself something I really did not like because normal people never admitted to that and I really did want to be normal again and get back into line.
I looked around and to my surprise I spotted someone standing nearby me not in line. He was different than the others. He was not handsome or all that but he was calm and did not appear to be at all worried that he was shunned by the others. I went up to him and asked him what he was doing and he in turn said,
"One might ask you the same thing." I told him I was not here by choice, and was going to get back in line as soon as I could. I was startled to hear him laugh.
"I am not laughing at you," he told me "I only laugh because you do not see. Though you are outside you are not looking in." I did not understand what he meant and told him so.
"Do you see that mountain?" he questioned me as he pointed far to the horizon. I nodded and said,
"My friends and I often talk about it. We all wanted to go there but the line is headed in the other direction."
"Why do you think you want to go there?" he asked me.
"Because it is the only thing in this empty dessert which is tall and green with life."
"Why did you never leave the line and set out for it?" he inquired.
"I could never do that." I shook my head in disbelief that the man would even suggest such a thing "the dessert is impossible to cross on one's own."
"Where does the line you were following go?" he asked.
"Nowhere." I told him "Why would it go anywhere?"
"What happens when you reach the end of it?"
"Nothing that I know of. I can't see the end of the line, I don't think it has an end."
"It does." he said to me.
"How do you know?" I demanded.
"I will show you." He took my hand and lead me down the line to the edge of a gorge and to my horror I saw that everyone was jumping off willingly.
"Why are they doing that!" I could not understand it.
"Everyone does it." he said calmly.
"But can't they see that everyone else is dying when they hit the bottom.
"No, they are too short sighted for that."
"What do I do?" I wondered.
"See over there." The man pointed to a bridge nearby that spaned the gorge to the other side "My Father designed that bridge and I built it. Cross it and follow the narrow road that leads to the mountain my Father is there, he will take you in to live there. It is a hard journey but I will go with you." I had just crossed the bridge when my best friend Tarra called to me across the gorge from where she stood in line. (At least she had been my best friend until she became the first to throw me out)
"Where are you going?"
"To the mountain." I told her.
"Why in the world would you want to do that?!" she exclaimed. She turned to the others in line and they began to talk in low voices amongst themselves. At last it appeared they came to a decision and turning back to me she yelled,
"We have decided that you can come back as long as you promise to stay normal and not say another word about what you think." I was torn. I wanted more then anything to get back in line and in favour with the others but now that I knew what was waiting at the end I knew I could not. The bridge also had a one way gate at the end of it.
"Come with me!" I called back.
"How could you say such a thing!" she said it as if it were a crime "I'd rather stay here."
"But there's a cliff at the end of the line!" I told her.
"There is no such thing." she said firmly and turned away from me.
"You can't see it from where you are! Please come with me!" I pleaded; but Tarra pretended not to hear me. I tried for sometime to get anyone to follow me but no one would and at last I turned and followed the man who had been calmly waiting for me.