Saturday, September 27, 2014

Outward; Part Three

"I am something that I used to be. I am never where I feel I am, and if I seek myself, I don't know who's seeking me. My bordeom with everything has numbered me. I feel banished from my soul."

He puts his hand on your shoulder. It's okay he tells you you don't have to answer the question if you don't want to. But you want to. At this point you don't even know if that's what you want. Do you want to go home? The question slams itself at you. Do you want to go home? The question grabs your shoulders. It digs it's claws into you. The claws pierce your skin and you can feel blood race down your arms. Do you want to go home? You don't know you tell him. The question draws it's claws back. There are marks where they were. Blood is still flowing out, but you don't feel pain. You feel good. You feel like a balloon letting off air. You feel like you're floating. Are you dying you ask. Detox the man laughs. You haven't heard a laugh in a while. Nothing here makes sense he continues but that's not to say any of this is real. What do you mean you ask. When you think something where does the thought go? Your mind the man says shoots out thoughts. Some are fireworks that explode midair while others only fall back down to the ground. They never go back to where they originated. Where do the thoughts go he asks again. You think. You watch the thought. It spirals into the air, a trail of bright red sparks. The sky is dark and then there is a crashing sound. You now see several colorful fireworks. A smoke follows them and you follow the sparkly debris. You're running chasing fleeing towards them. The man tells you not to wait for him. He yells you will do great things. Your breaths are short and your legs are beginning to hurt, but you have to get to the sparks before they vanish into the ground. Spikes of pain shoot up the balls of your feet into your knees into your thighs into your chest. The sparks are falling slowly, but you're no where near them. They seem to grow farther and farther away from where you think they would have landed. The sparks disappear. You stop running. You collapse onto the ground. Your hair is wet plastered to your forehead. Beads of sweat roll off your face and hit the ground next to your ear. You can hear your heart beat it sounds like a piano falling down a flight of stairs. All of the sudden you hear a whirling noise. You turn your body so you are now fully facing the sky. Asteroids of ginormous sparks slowly fall towards you. Are you ready you hear the man ask. No you say. Then let's go.
The ground beneath you that kissed your body opens up and swallows you whole. You slide down it's esophagus and pass through it's heart that beats slowly. You feel every lub every dup your hearts sync. You're in it's lungs now. They contract and relax and you close your eyes and hang out there for a little. You find a quiet spot near an artery. Bringing your legs close to your chest you've forgot your're claustrophobic. Surprisingly being here makes everything seem so much like a small box. Like a cupboard. Like a closet. Life itself seems to fit perfectly into the smallest jewlery box. Into the smallest coin purse. It seems to fit into a small cell in a small tissue in a small organ in a small organ system in a small organism. When you open your eyes there is a man standing there. He has a dark brown beard and is wearing a yellow suit. He looks familiar though you have never seen him. Are you ready to go he asks. You recognize him now he was the invisible man. He is the invisible man. How come you can see him you ask. You can see? Of course you can you say you have a dark brown beard and a yellow suit on. What color are his eyes. They are grey. What is your name you ask him. He opens his mouth, but closes it right away. It's time you know the truth. What a silly name. 
Lights flash before you. They are bright white lights. They flash in different directions. You're in a tunnel of these lights. They fly by you now. The man grabs your hand and tells you to keep close. It's Zeke by the way. Your name it slips your tongue. It's okay he tells you. You don't need to know just yet. When the lights stop flashing you realize you're in a dining room of a large estate. Sitting at the head of the large table is a woman with long black hair. On her plate a syringe. To her left is a tall man with small eyes. On his plate a sign. Next to him is a shorter man with a black eye. On his plate a gun. Sitting to the woman's right is a wolf. In front of him a bowl of water. Next to the wolf is a tiny old woman. In front of her is a pair of glasses. Zeke motions for you to sit across the table in front of the woman with the long black hair. 
Do you remember your home the lady begins. Do you remember your mother or your father? Do you remember the flowers your parents planted by your windowsill? No. No. No. Come now, think. It's a cream colored house you say with red shutters. Her name is Anne and his name is Wilbur. Tulips they planted tulips. No the lady says you're lying. You turn away stare at a wall. What's your name she asks. Sam. Lie. Why do you keep lying. She is calm. She looks you in the eyes she doesn't want to give you a hard time. You can trust us. Do you know why you can trust us? Do you want to guess? Your eyes swell with tears.

Because we're you. You formed us in the deep abyss of your mind and we escaped to the surface. We're all parts pf you. Parts that you love parts that you hate. The truth is, none of this is real. You haven't chosen a door yet. You are standing at the doors avoiding a choice whos difficulty is hard to determine. All this is a product of a wild imagination. Don't cry. Please don't cry. 
How do you get back you ask.
You never left.
There is darkness. A calm.
There is light. A cold chill dances across your body. 
There are two doors in front of you. The doors are both white and have a stainless steel door knob. You notice a glimmering light seeping out from under the one on the right and a subtle rumbling sound coming from the the left.  You can't see what's behind either of the doors, but you have to choose one of them to move on.
There is a space between the doors. It is a wide enough space. You're hands are beginning to sweat. Which door will it be? Right or left left or right. 

You choose not to choose. You run straight on into the space between the doors. Where is your home? You are your own home. What is your name? Your name is Lydia Victor and you run as fast as you can. You never look back. 

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