Thursday, April 23, 2015

The Blue Man

Once upon a time there was a blue man. He was once a little kid, living a simple life in the country. A simple life which he remembered as the happiest time of his life, the only time he felt truly happy. This joyful little boy who would, one day, become the Blue Man, enjoyed running through the fields and looking at the stars.

One day, a very mean wizard cast a spell on the little boy's village. Everything that grew in the fields, once ripe, would disappear and reappear on the wizard's table, in the wizard's castle, north of the village.   Many who worked in the fields had to leave the village and find another place to work and live and so did the little boy's family. 

No one noticed, but it was right at that moment that the little boy began to turn blue. It started with his left thumb, its skin displayed a light blue shade. He thought he had hit something, a rock, a can, perhaps. But the blue shade remained. It was ok, easily hidden in his socks, though no one would really notice it. The little boy's parents had too much on their minds, they had no job, no home, and a bunch of other kids to care for. 

They moved to a place where everybody spoke a strange language the little boy could not understand and that made the little boy extremely lonely. There were gadgets and things in this new place the little boy had never seen and that made the little boy extremely afraid. 

People, in this new place, were very different from the inhabitants of the little boy's village, more flamboyant and loud, less stern, still strangely colder and dangerous.  He could easily pass by one of them, he thought, if he made an effort, but he felt unwelcome and to think of becoming one of them only made the little boy bluer. "They kind of looked like the Wizard", he pondered, "and so do I, if you think about it". That thought  only increased his blueness. Still, he made an effort to adjust. He had no choice. He was just a little boy. 

His family was a very hard working family as many families who ran from the Wizard were. They prospered and established themselves in the new place. So did the little boy's siblings who did not turn blue. They were either too old and certain of who they were, or where they were from, when they got there; or too young and just created new colorful selves in the new place which became their place, but not the little boy's. 

He never recovered from losing touch with the land which was his, which was him. He never completely accepted the language he learned to mimic so well. He kept going, though. He prospered along with the family, but moved away from them in search of greater advancements as it was common and expected of people in this no longer new land. He was not worried when he left. He had been mimicking for so long,  he could have sworn it was going to be all right.

Once he moved he kept trying to adjust, to fit in, until one day the blueness which had been crawling slowly through his body reached his neck. He began to feel nervous and anxious. He had been able to hide this for such a long time. It was all so slow and the blue so light, but if it reached his face it would become obvious. He withdrew. He hid from the world, he retreated to a cave. He forgot how to be happy, he forgot how to be sweet. He forgot the little boy. He became the Blue Man. 

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