All the lonely people Where do they all come from?

All the lonely people
Where do they all come from?

      

       

   A long time ago, long before your grandparent’s grandparents were brought into the world, there was a little girl named Eleanor Rigby. Her dull brown hair fell down to her knees and her face looked unkempt, oily and gray with filth. Her mother was always away at work, weaving thread to create colorful dresses for the rich ladies in town. Her father, whom she could remember nothing of, had died during a plague before she was even born. Being too poor to attend school, Eleanor spent her days roaming the streets, trying to avoid the putrid waste that that rich would pour in the streets for the poor to suffer in.

One day, Eleanor Rigby came across a young boy, much like her. His face was also covered in filth, but this filth was brown rather than Eleanor’s gray. They became friends, roaming the streets together during the days, sharing fantasies that they too may someday by as privileged and well off as the towns’ people. There was only one thing keeping them from happiness in their minds. Money. During one of their afternoon strolls, they came across an announcement nailed to the tree in the town square.

LITTLE GIRL WANTED FOR OUTBREAK OF FOOD THEIFTS.  MONEY REWARD FOR CAPTURE.

Eleanor felt uneasy reading this; the little girl’s poor family was probably just very hungry. The next day, as they were walking along the young boy next to her who had become a trusted friend, was acting strange. Suddenly, out from behind the building know as the bakery, came three strong men, who grabbed Eleanor Rigby violently, dragging her towards the town square. The young boy following behind. When asked by the three men if this was the girl, the young boy eagerly agreed. Shortly thereafter, the young boy ran off with the bag full of money he had received as a reward. He had sold out the little girl for money, turning in an innocent person who had come to trust him. For money.

Something was created in that moment, as something died in hearts around the world, past, present, and future. Trust suffered a painful death that day, just as Eleanor’s father had during the plague. A whole new world was unearthed that day.

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                    After spending most of her childhood being punished, Eleanor went on to have children who suffered from a mind swallowing loneliness. They chose to avoided people rather than suffer the pain of people breaking trust for their own gain. Her children went on to have children, as did their children and so forth.  Today, when you run across a lonely person, you’re meeting a new generation of Eleanor Rigby’s. Too untrusting to befriend. To lost in their loneliness to be freed.

No one was saved.