The Runner
A spirit once sees
A girl on a smooth cobble path,
Running through the bright morning.
The spirit asks,
“What are you running for, girl?”
The girl replies,
“I am going to the end of this long road, where I am told will fulfill all my desires. Won’t you come along and see?”
So the spirit tells her it will see her journey on the path, from the stars above.
When the spirit next sees the girl, it is inspired.
The girl is running down the track, full speed ahead.
The spirit asks,
“Won’t you get tired running like that, girl?”
The girl replies,
“I like the journey. My muscles will never tire, spirit. But won’t you come with me for the rest of it?”
So the spirit tells her it will support her from afar.
When the spirit next sees the girl, it is concerned.
The girl is running down the path, limping slightly.
The spirit asks,
“What happened to your leg, girl?”
The girl replies,
“My foot caught on a rock and slipped. There was an uneven patch in the path. Won’t you help me continue on?”
So the spirit stays with the girl for a time, breathing words of encouragement as she perseveres.
When the spirit next sees the girl, it is relieved.
The girl is running on the road, albeit slower.
The spirit asks,
“Are you still going strong, girl?”
The girl replies,
“Yes, I am determined to get to the end of the path, where there will be greatness awaiting me. I just need to focus on the road ahead. Won’t you see how far I’ve come?”
So the spirit continues on with the girl as she runs, by her side.
Periodically, the spirit goes back to the track, seeing the girl run. She is going as strong each time as the last, and the spirit praises her as such.
The spirit knows she will reach her goal, no matter what.
All she has to do is persevere, as she has been doing.
So, the spirit leaves for a time, knowing the girl is in the right hands.
5 years later, the spirit returns, feeling proud.
The girl is still running, but that running has turned into a jog.
The spirit asks,
“How have you been, girl?”
The girl replies,
“I am just focusing on reaching the end of the road. I know it is near, and I know I am doing everything I can to reach it. Don’t you think so, spirit?”
The spirit thinks it notices a tired dullness to her eyes, but it is sure that will pass.
When the spirit next sees the girl, it is troubled.
The girl is slowly jogging on the road, walking every few minutes, but making progress as usual.
The spirit asks,
“What has happened, girl?”
The girl replies,
“I’m just a little tired. I’m still going on strong towards the end of the path, where all my wishes will be granted. That is okay, right, spirit?”
The spirit agrees, and murmurs words of reassurance to the girl as she jogs into the dusky sunset.
When the spirit next sees the girl, it is worried.
The girl is now slowly limping down the road, stopping every few minutes to catch her breath.
The spirit asks,
“Have you let go of your dream, girl? Is it time to stop?”
The girl smiles sadly and says,
“I was told that everyone who reaches the end of the road would get their wish to their heart’s desire. I have come this far. I cannot stop now.”
And so, the spirit watches her go, limping but still continuing on.
When the spirit next finds the girl, it is in distress.
The path is dark, the road is barely visible.
The spirit wanders down the rocky gravel until it hears heavy breathing.
The girl is down on her knees, bloodied from the sharp stones of the path.
She crawls on all fours, gulping for air.
The spirit cries,
“What do you need, girl? Can I please help?”
The girl gasps, her eyes blank and facing forward,
“I cannot stop now, I cannot stop now, I cannot stop now, I cannot stop now.”
The spirit, bewildered, drifts away, solemnly promising to come back in a day.
The words echo in its head as it glides through the wind.
When the spirit next arrives, it is frantic.
When the spirit next arrives, it cannot find the girl.
It wanders down the sharp path, smelling the tang of blood, and knows the girl has been there.
An hour later, the spirit hears a weak cry.
It drifts down to the source and sees something on the path.
The girl lies on her belly against the glass-like spikes, barely breathing as she sluggishly crawls forward on weak limbs.
Her running shoes, once vibrant like the sun, are coming apart.
Her clothes, once bright and form-fitting, are loose and tattered to shreds by the sharpness of the path below her.
Her eyes, once shining and filled with hope, are dull and devoid of emotion.
The spirit whispers,
“Please, let me help you.”
The girl croaks.
“I can’t. This is a journey I need to complete on my own.”
She pauses.
“Please stay.”
And so the spirit kneels by her side, providing whatever comfort it can to shield the girl from the danger of the path below her.
When the spirit next wakes up, it is emotionless.
When the spirit next wakes up, the girl is gone.
She lies there on the path, fingers clutching at the next part of the road as if she is making to pull herself forward,
Like she had done so many thousands of times before.
She lies there on the path, clothes torn and face exhausted, almost as if the life she once had in her is about to come back in a final push.
But there is none left to give.
Choking back a sob, the spirit wanders down the road, wondering if there even was an end after all.
For years it travels, searching for the goal the girl was so set on, wondering if her life had gone to waste.
The spirit finds nothing.
10 years later, the spirit arrives back at the place it last saw the girl. It looks down at her and grasps her hand, which promptly turns to dust.
It scatters away in the cold, biting wind.
The spirit closes its eyes in silent prayer, waiting for the next day to come, to see the sunrise the girl has forever missed out on as its last homage to her.
That moment never comes.
When the spirit wakes up, it is confused.
When the spirit wakes up, it knows something is different.
When the spirit wakes up, it cannot move.
The spirit looks down at its hands, and realizes they, though once blue and transparent, are grey and solid now.
The spirit tries to turn its cheek from the sharp prison below it, and realizes it can’t.
The spirit now knows the truth that has been there all along.
The spirit watched the girl gradually die as she ran on the path towards her aspirations.
The spirit watched the girl wither away on the path, her dreams of success scattering away like dust in the wind.
The spirit watched itself worsen as its counterpart slowly deteriorated, fixated on a goal that would never come to fruition.
The spirit is the girl.
The girl is the spirit.
Without one, the other cannot exist.
And so, the spirit lies there, trapped in a continuum of life and death as it stays on the path indefinitely, in the biting cold and venomous darkness, rueing the day the girl stepped foot on that cruel path.
I am the spirit.
