User blog:KommunistKoala AP/Responsibilities - A Short Story (Not a Fanfiction)

Responsibilities. Why are they a thing? Honestly, they can just go away. I don't want to keep going through the same routine everyday… Wake up, get coffee, go to work, go back home, eat dinner, sleep. I need change.

I'll quit my job. I'll travel the world. I'll see it and its beautiful masterpieces. I can just forget everything and leave. By myself.

What am I thinking right now? That's the worst idea of my life. I need to keep working, find a lover, have kids…

It was a bright Sunday matinee, and I needed to unwind after finishing mounds of paperwork. I decided to go up to the top of a hill where I have a beautiful vista of the sprawling landscape below. I'll pack a picnic and just admire nature from my home. There's no need to leave it, after all. I have everything here.

When I got up to the top, I took out the picnic and started eating. When I was done, I stood up, but I lost my balance and fell. I got back up, and all I had was a bruise on my knee. I decided to get back home to finish up the paperwork.

I threw the papers in the air. It made a mess. I was free. I left the house, door unlocked, stove still burning, bathroom still clogged. I drove to the airport and took the nearest plane to Cancún. Then, I went to Guatemala City, Bogotá, Quito, Macchu Picchu, Santiago, Ushuaia... I traveled the world. I didn't care about my boring uniform life. I went to Brazil, South Africa, Madagascar, Tanzania, Kenya... Wasting all my money.

Spain, Portugal, France, Ireland, the U.K., the Nordics, the Baltics, Germany, Benelux, the Balkans, Russia...

The Middle East, the Maghreb, Central and South Asia, East and Southeast Asia, Oceania...

Then, after over a year of just travelling and having fun, I totally forgot about how my mother was doing. I never called once. I never even told her I was leaving. I didn't get any of her calls because I lost my phone in the Chilean desert.. I hope she isn't too worried… I went into a cyber café in the capital of French Polynesia and called her.

"Hello? Mom"

"Who is this?"

The voice was not familiar. I was sure I dialled the correct number.

"Where is Mrs. Jones?"

"She's in a mental hospital. She has gone into a deep depression after her son left her. This depression greatly hindered her health, and finally the neighbours noticed her weird behaviour and helped her. I am Mrs. Whitney, I'm taking care of her house while she is gone. Sir, who are you?"

"Her son left her?" I was an only child. "What do you mean by that?"

"Her son went up a hill and committed suicide. Sir, again, who are you?"

I lowered the phone from my ear. I stared off into my coffee, and then the streets of Pape'ete. Maybe I had so many responsibilities that I didn't want to be a responsibility of other people.