Marionettes

Photo by IMAdina

Look at me! A marionette in this life’s pale colors! I have no desire to move, just place me wherever and help me end.

I wasn’t like this in the beginning. I thought I could change it all, I thought I am different. Don’t we all?

My parents, my aunts and uncles, my parents’ friends, everyone I knew while growing up, everyone was a marionette. In their time, you could still see the strings. They were tied to their wrists and their ankles. These days you can only see those in a museum.
Anyway, that’s what I knew from a very young age – you grow up to become a marionette and fulfill your purpose. Your strings are thicker or thinner, depending on your purpose. Some marionettes need a little more freedom when played; others just need to be pulled on tighter strings. That’s how it was, and we all obeyed.

And then the Great Movement happened. It came from abroad, big, free and wild. It cut us all loose. People woke up for a moment, helped other people cut their strings. And they stumbled a little, not having walked on their own for a while.
I was in the heart of the Movement, inhaling free air, moving my arms in all directions. Thinking the Movement means something.

I followed the Movement for a long time, working for it, helping people everywhere to cut loose. It was just a few of us up there at the top of the Movement, in the decision circle. We decided who is next to cut loose their strings.

I don’t know how I figured it out. One day I have started seeing strings again. On my wrists, on my ankles, on my colleagues’ wrists and ankles. We were played. We were all played; I could see the strings even after being cut loose from total strangers.

I talked to everyone, asked them “What’s happening? Can’t you all see those strings?”
“No, there are no strings,” they all answered.

But they are there. We cannot see them anymore, but they are in the same place they have always been. We replaced the visible ones with the invisible ones, that’s all we’ve been doing!

Look at me! Can’t you see the strings?

Written for the Weekly Challenge – Threes