Broken Tree In The Way Of The Path

A Broken Tree That Laid In The Middle Of The Path 

A Broken Tree That Laid In The Middle Of The Path 

1

Story about a tree

A broken tree laid in the way, its brown outer bark barley a loose thread held onto its stump. Maybe it was struck down by lightning then eaten from the inside by a bug. Scattered and Surrounding, Its fruit laid across the grassy floor. It must have only begun to bloom. 

He had recognised the tree, there was plenty around the place he lived as a child . The Tree was a shagbark hickory. They don’t bear fruit for about their first forty years. This one was so unlucky. A single tree could fill five gallons worth of its droppings, they were carya-ovata… they were a yellowish green and mostly faded into the ground for the animals to pick at.

Cautiously he stepped over the dead branches, the right leg  first then followed by the  other… It felt like walking between different places. On one side there was nothing now but it was nice, then after I crossed over, it was a lot greener… the world had become something beautiful. It always can be, just now I can see it at face value.  It’s really pretty here, I didn’t have to whisper voices in my own head.

There were no whispers at all now, there was nothing crawling inside me , no bug I couldn’t squish…. I couldn’t care less for what was behind me, I wouldn’t give one more look at the ugly back of its head. I wasn’t being apathetic, it was so nice here I was happy, I didn’t know how long it would last , Still I’d hear that flow through my head. I could hear that I knew all I knew but I couldn’t care.

The tall and fragrant trees were everywhere. Almost like a drug I can’t stop taking for my skin that can’t stop peeling off. With the Sun tip toeing and elegantly dancing off the shade of the tree leaves. I could glide back and forth all day on his back.  We had made friends over time and I was quite fond of him. I took off his reins that gripped him into something ugly he had only just forgotten. I sat on no saddle… we sold it to eat.

My hands  placed below where his neck began. Trotting  below shady trees and excellent weather. I think dying would be ok now if it happens in a place like this…

I wish we could stay here. We were tired, I didn’t smell good. I hadn’t drank a drop in a day.  I used the  last of our drinking water, watering some dead tree…  I could hear some sort of rushing in the distance and knew we’d find a place to rest.

Another moment goes by and I hear it louder… The earth’s reason for why this place flourished the way it did. Around these bends Above were cliffs shrouded by shrubbery , briefly holding the rushing water as it fell. A waterfall so pretty it hid from the outside world by its own decision. 

It flowed and pooled onto the ground and seeped into the soil enchanting the roots turning something beautiful out of all this dirt. This place hid itself so no one could ever find it.

As we rested and bathed, I had a random thought,  Maybe it was The trees growing between slippery rocks. One day it would snap and break like the others… Still, it was nice to have these memories even if they didn’t mean much…. I was just thinking a lot. What I thought, was the one thing I knew had nothing to do with me or who I was. 

2

South of nothing 

Every morning I have the displeasure of waking myself up. The horse has been cold to me.  He was more of an animal now… he was barely my friend. I think we’ll both die soon. Doesn’t matter… It’s felt like that for a bit now, I don’t remember the last time we weren’t dying.  I think when I was young I swallowed a worm. Now he’s all  grown and stuck inside me moving through my arm to each uncracked joint in my hands, resting in the pit of my stomach.  I couldn’t eat anymore, dysmorphia followed me. I didn’t want to eat. It felt good to starve. I looked better ….  The taste of tar inside me made everything foul. I no longer felt the need for much. 

 I have had bad dreams every night…. It’s hard to separate waking up from… The last few days have been unkind. So cold and I cannot keep myself covered in the chill of the early morning, the blanket I carried was no longer big enough for me. My lungs hurt more now than ever.  Coughing was harsh, I spit the phlegm into the dirty Desert dust… and over it I kicked onto it more dust. 

Each uncomfort followed me into my dreams echoing the pain they were causing into my subconscious even further prying my insides apart till I don’t know how to be here anymore. The whispers never shut, they turned me into a long stare, as I took into me the nothing of my surroundings.

He had dark black eyes, which looked like nothing, while walking slower every day now… I’m scared he blames me for this. I’m Scared he hates me. We had not been talking as much… he could barely look up at me, he was much skinnier now and wasn’t the old big brown horse anymore. His Mane remained untouched. No matter how much shit we sank into his spirit. He never lost his mane. He’s a beautiful horse, he never was never mine, but now I fed him by hand.  Brushed him as I begged him to water. I never needed to call him anything, we didn’t know how to have those kinds of conversations. 

We loved nature…. Different trees surviving in different ecosystems how it was the same but changed and became different. Now we were different, we adapted to nothingness just like the trees that once filled this empty plain, We will die of thirst under water and our leaves burnt. There’s been nothing but dust everyday now Everything is the same, Dull and dry for days in either direction. There was no more seeing new places and seeing things most people never saw…  Life was over. I’m glad I’m visiting. It would be nice to say goodbye to everyone even if they dont know it’s goodbye. 

3

Horses Birthday 

He was castrated when he was very young… I always wonder if today was his birthday and we’d never know.  I’d like to give something before it’s over. I just don’t know what. He’ll never have a family, he’ll probably never see another Tree if it goes on like this.  He roamed with his face looking down. Was he just tired? Eaten up, old and gloomy. It would be a shame to have to die in a place like this. I knew we both agreed on that.  we should have saved parts of the river into little jars… maybe then we wouldn’t be so thirsty.  

At this point Life’s exhaustion, a dullness so dry you’re salivating for the taste of your own spit. Now Exhaustion tied a chain to The horse  where he walked, his tiredness followed. There was nowhere to run, no hills… no nothing. no way to hold yourself up off the ground, A brain no longer sending signals and A mouth covered by drool. He was tired, I no longer rode atop his back. We walked side by side. Hand in hand. 

Above us the sun began to set.. It was a pretty sunset with pretty colours. First orange ran across the horizon then pink came absorbing each other turning the sky a deep brooding  purple. It was the most hopeful sight in a while. That the journey was worth the trouble.

Why am I coming back? Not just for a goodbye … it’s been too long since I’ve seen my family. I Loved them but I was ashamed. I think My sister is getting married or it’s my mothers new husband’s 63rd birthday. I don’t remember why I’m coming home.  A party would be fun, I remember parties as a kid. I’d always hide… I couldn’t make a new friend. ‘In a moment in thought He stood back and surrendered a little more control of himself to that same chain. 

A Devious Panic seeped down his spine. He just stopped thinking. No one likes seeing flashing thoughts of themselves as a kid, it’s too sad. I’m so guilty. No one asks for this. He repeated into his head. no one deserves this. He easily thought himself to panic, nothing outside him had changed. 

We’d  arrive soon, We felt closer… I saw the house now even though I barely recognise it, an old and flakey porch a few steps off the ground. It stood in the middle of the dirt plain with no indication where its back or front yard ended and someone else’s nothing began.

The horse stood below the steps as the man approached the front door. 

The door was locked. There’s no one inside. I Can’t get in, knocking, knocking nobody answers. I am tired , I don’t care. He laid his belongings down against the house, the horse dropped down slowly and slept 

Night was falling. The colours faded to gray. The horse laid underneath where the first few stars came out. Curled underneath them the poor animal rested.  It’s hard to imagine he could get back up again, when lowering himself down looked so stiff and uncomfortable.

Darkened eyes stared blankly for a moment, life was happening for the last time. Dark eyes followed nothing up and down and fell blanky at the ground. Maybe remembering something special, Did he understand he wouldn’t wake up tomorrow ?

Over by the door The Man had started up a fire. He had boiled a pot of the last bit of water that The horse had refused to drink earlier that day,  Placed A filter in my mouth neatly fitting the tobacco inside the paper massaging it with both thumbs and pointer fingers 

He rolled his cigarette, it was loose and poor. The paper was wet and the filter could slide out at any time, if I wasn’t holding it firm. 

The outside of the house  was pitch black, the only light came from the open flame, surrounded by a gentle nothing… so gentle it’s like it was ok to just be lost. The sound of tiny bells rang from above… a little fluffy cat climbed down from the roof, its eyes were  blue n white like the back of mine… she pointed her nose towards me, sniffed and rubbed against me…. She was friendly or just appreciated the fire…. looked like a girl. Long white fur, with a dark grey face which was almost black like the dead eyes that stared secretly beside them. 

The warm open fire that awkwardly burns over the front porch, sparking holes into the wooden planks they sat on.

How long has this place been empty, I really thought. Maybe they’ve just gone out. But it’s so late. The sun has set, I see the first few stars. They’ve always been there, the sun was just too bright. Ill try again in the morning … laying down Again.

He sat beside her, petting her back as she wandered side to side. ‘Don’t pretend like you can understand me’ he spoke staring at her blue eyes and down towards a metal bowl being filled from His own flask

I’m so young I shouldn’t be dying so soon.  Thinking aloud 

The cat drank as he talked to himself

I’m so young and I’m withering. There’s still tomorrow to turn around. Maybe I can slow this down. I don’t feel much being out here. I don’t feel much after traveling all this way.

 This place does nothing but depress me. I know this is supposed to be home but I haven’t been here in a long while. It wasn’t like this. It wasn’t anything like this, it wasn’t this far away. 

Maybe it used to be greener, a place where trees would grow and only people died. 

He laid down against the hardened wood and After a moment of thought, the screaming sounds in his head turned back to whispers, slowly drifting into even less. It was cold and the day was over.  He laid across the broken floor,  splintered and hollowed inside, like a tree struck by lightning and eaten from the inside.

The cat walked around sniffing everything the man owned. The moon now hung right above as a horse began to decay and rot.

The Horse died before anyone could say a proper goodbye, in the place he hated the most. The poor thing would have to be found in the morning. 

4

The Sun Will Come Out In The Morning 

Sleeping, I was caught in a current, behind black and white a  symphony of a paper made city.  Painted  dark colours mostly then touched up with yellow. Yellow represented all the lights in town… I was Riding The horse Again only now it was raining too much His hooves hovered above the ocean floor flailing hopelessly against its wind. I learned to cut out the inside of my arm removing the meat and bone leaving empty sockets. I treated the pain and blood loss easily. I Stitched myself up and removed my legs, flesh and bone cast aside and I detached from my body completely… Round and round  caught in a current where water pushed up my nose and back out from my throat. I wanted so bad to drown right then and there..

He hides in the dark in a paper made house, behind a corner, He can’t wait anymore i set him off maybe he’ll kill her again. Why not just do it infront me this time?  The whirling pools opened into extended rivers, I could now glide down head under the sun.  I’m Thinking of the Girl who sold me the last pack of tobacco.  

She worked at the store. I could come in anytime I like. She would remember random things I had said in the past when I came through. She remembered You … ‘Will’. Maybe I was almost turning conscious. That’s when I think I wished I had stopped right There , Even to have one more quick conversation. But I let it eat my insides out, again and again…. Detaching myself again limb from limb and head to chest… i ceased to float and awoke

PART II

1

 Horses funeral 

A few hours went by until morning came, I was alone. It was much hotter today. I’m so thirsty i’d drown myself in the cat’s metal bowl and drink my way out.  The floor was uncomfortable; it wasn’t designed to be slept on, besides there were gaps in the shape of missing wooden planks lost beneath the house, swallowed by the dust. 

Whatever life was brought here whether it was happy, sad, crazy or lonely means shit now, it’s long dead.

So deathly the aroma flew through the air staining my clothes. (I could barely bear to keep them on). I felt nauseated… The smell stuck to my hair, it blurred my senses like a shot of whiskey that makes you sick.  So sick the scent must have broken the Horses back. whose pungent lifeless body now thickens the oil of my skin.  He needs to be buried right here. He would hate me forever if he knew.

I walked down the steps and continued walking straight ,  I took another 20 steps.and sunk to my knees and started digging. It was hard and exhausting. My arms dug deep into dirt… Through the agony I thought about the words I would use before I looked at him a final time. I wanted to thank him and tell him I was sorry and that even though we barely knew each other ill miss him.  Maybe I could call him by the name I gave him. I think more than anything he looked like his name would be Will.

I laid Will’s body in the hole I made. I looked at him and he was clearly dead… He would’ve known for a while this was coming. 

Pondering for a moment, remembering the day they found each other…The Horse or Will  had been drinking by a creek, a pretty one at that. I just wanted to see if he’d let me near… he was such a happy animal he was free, ill never know how he escaped his early life captivity… I feel like I brought him back into it one more time. 

 I’m so sorry we ever left that waterfall. Ill never forgive myself for dragging your dead carcass along with me when all you needed was comfort and rest… I struggled getting any of those words to come out

….

lost faces hover in the distance. too far to tell… an  indistinguishable crowd. Only the  colours that formed them were visible. The desert was no longer empty now. Closer and closer a population of conjoined surrounding town folk. Watching them gather made me extremely nervous. I wished they’d walk a little faster.

People arrived and surrounded the old house, most ignored me, some stopped to look at me… An old woman Asked if I was here for the funeral… I just watched her become uncomfortable at my silence. I didn’t care what any of them had to say.

Hurdling around the grave site, talking amongst themselves… some cried, I didn’t listen, I stopped listening… How did they come to know Will? was  still a mystery, most likely they were bored looking for something to do. More and more spilled in, and they couldn’t keep their eyes off the rotting animal. 

The Priest wore a black robe and golden chains clung to him branded by symbols that didn’t mean anything to Will… The towns People left flowers, teary eyed they recalled old memories to each other.

Why did they have to haunt me… I’m so upset I couldn’t keep my eyes off the holy Father, I still must go inside. The father of nothing, his shoulders curled unevenly, the veins in his neck were a harsh sight… His face was mean and  I hated him all the way back  from the first second I laid eyes on him. He looked like he’d always been alone, it was always his fault and always will be.  

The old priest had been gazing down at the hole in the ground then blankly stared back at the crowd of empty people.

They all waited, now without a sound, only  the faint  whooshing of  wiwind … colliding piles of dust with each other, that were always bound to be buried together. I found it hard to feel anything in me. My chest had been hollowed out in my sleep. Now my eyes dilate towards his sharp but soft pale blue eye iris’. … my devil in the daylight spoke

Today is another mournful sorry day for our community , is it not? 

This poor fallen horse, together we can help him find his way home

Although we are abandoned, a god still lights our flame… so we can live 

And breath … “find your own peace” he says

His passing serves to strengthen our flame to burn brighter and hrasher together, to separate us from those who burn too gently.

 Its a hot day… we all dressed up, i see no need for cooling  yet…. I cant help but sell out  to it…

 The Father descended into a tightening lunacy, his voice strained with his face. It all drops in his chest…. His arms flailed and frightened the guests. 

 The priest wanted to cry the life he chose betrayed the only part of himself worth living for. The poor child he used to be, how maybe he would’ve wanted to be something better… better than a place like this.  She’s just rotten corpse now, all He had to do was nothing, but he couldn’t even do that. 

Embarrassed on the inside he didn’t know how to show it.  He barely spoke  a word of sense…

 The Man watched from the back of the crowd. Watching the maddening rambles and mutterings of  sick thoughts , dug out of a sick head. His blue eyes were more visible now and were no longer hidden.

 I empty my pockets for you all to run to the nearest hole in the ground where I finally pray to heal the heart of the barren soil. OUR SIDE is simple although excruciating when prayers arent answered… in the god i am patient that there is something at the end of this thunderstorm whether it be clear skies or a tsunami, if we don’t believe him then the plants will never grow again. 

He cracks a smile, he’s happy he has served himself. Says a final prayer and wishes everyone well. The crowd slowly begins to disperse 

Who gave him the right??, thought The Man…. who  didn’t see him as a preacher to be  listened to but a desperate old man…  holding on to patches of hair, wrinkly skin painted over melanoma and discoloured veins wiggling aimlessly under his skin. 

After all this time alone on horseback and camping in the wind, after all this time again He was just another unrecognizable face in the crowd. There was no time or space to mourn….  Yesterday was long but we made it, today was nothing but a charade that we all shared. There is no party, no wedding or birthday there is no one I know here. Why am I here? Am I insane or dumb that I don’t understand. 

2

  The Son 

The House’s  front porch used to have lots of little pot plants, trinkets and knick knacks. When you walked down the steps there was so much to see. You could turn around and it was the cutest home on the street, people would always have something to say about it. 

A sadness lurked here, like many beautiful things…. Houses can be prisons, In some instances. lost and controlled trying to stay hidden… While a funeral procession plays in the background… A son watches from behind the home adjacent to the out house. He was small, hair needed a trim. His  sad dark brown eyes caught the old priest talking and thought about the fall, instead of listening to a word, the way he had practiced. The leaves falling, the acer maple trees… turn from green to orange and die on the ground.

The boy was haunted by that same man … the same man who now spewed his ramblings onto everyone, whose frightening face … creased and ugly.  The boy took small steps around the house almost in wonder. He stared longingly at all who showed up…. He was terrified of faces, so much so he couldn’t watch them cry and ponder. They were all dressed in black… on such a hot day. someone must’ve died, he thought curiously to himself as he drew closer to the front of the house.

His small abandoned smile ceased as he made out a dead horse buried in the sand as the priests yelling halted.. Everyone stood still, including him… An upset man walked away from their burial towards the old house. the child felt an anxiousness pass through him.. The man had been camping outside… why not just knock? the boy thought… his eyes drifted to the front door then back to the upset man 

This man was new here or maybe just forgotten, the latter is pretty common in these parts… there was never anything worth remembering here …. The man had a rough face but he seemed kind and the child lowered his guard. 

The Man looked like shit, he was dying. Death was nothing new here, it was the custom… it ate away the land and all of us… the people here seem sad but i know they are glad… Dying was something to do here. Something that was only for you until you were gone and they could feed off you like hungry wild dogs. 

The Boy wanted to meet the man who had come so far seemingly killing himself in the process… As the child walked closer… now where his presence could be felt by the stranger he was anxious to greet. They both stood silent for a second as they took each other in. 

The boy continued standing silently. 

The Man noticed the young boy, for  a second he thought he recognised him, but he just looked like a normal little boy with brown hair and eyes.

what are you doing, are you lost.

 The man had softened his voice and no longer carried the anger he had felt. The child stayed the same just as still and silent as before. 

The man gave an awkward wave

Hello…. 

 you should probably go back to whoever you came here with… do you know where your mother might be ?

The boy pointed up at the house.

Do you live here? I used to live here …

 maybe it was just in another time away or something… looking at his boots.  i really don’t  recognise anything about this place anyway, but i just needed to come see it one more time… 

Mama showed me pictures left behind of the other kids who used to live here. It’s nice I like it…i never saw anyone like me around… just the ones in old pictures. How old were you when you were last here, I just turned nine. The Boy was excited he felt less alone, he hadn’t got to make a friend in long time now

The Man wanted to answer the boy’s question but didnt know how… 

I remember something bad happening. People were unkind…  Except for my mother, she’s the one who raised me here or somewhere else. .. I don’t remember what happened to her. I’m just sorry you know I think I’m confused a lot has happened today… i’d just like to now look inside, you know, to see if it’s the right place after all.  The Man spoke a lot faster and quieter and took extra breaths getting that all out. 

Did you ride that horse here? The boy asked as if ignoring everything said…

Towards the grave all had dispersed, all but the lonely father… who did nothing just stood in the spot he chose. He looked completely unlovable… I can see him for who he is. The old man who feeds off all our pain like the petunias sucking the sun out of our eyes.. Go on crying on his shoulder as you leave, just fill him up and go. 

How can we get inside when the door is locked…

 The Man asked with whatever sad smile he conjured up by reliving the past… he had now sunk and drifted into darkness and agitation as he watched the old priest. 

I don’t have a way in… 

The Kid spoke seemingly afraid to disappoint me. I didn’t want him to feel afraid of me, I grew impatient and dropped to one knee stretching bent arms onto both shoulders and I looked at the kid gently pleading for anything. You live here… how do you come and go? How? It can’t always be shut tight. 

 father keeps the keys on him always, the child spoke with tears in his eyes he was stressed and anxious he didnt wanna be questioned another second

He stood with his arms down by his side just crying. The poor kid is my fault… I’m sorry I never wanted to upset you.  You’re the last person I’d want to make feel like this and I’m sorry kid…. He took his hands off the boy’s boney shoulders. 

The child mumbled as he weeped. He was sorry … he couldn’t control how he felt… it wasn’t his fault

The man Pulled his attention back … The father? Is that your father down there … ?

The boy kept crying… He’s Not My Father… hes mean, he hates me.. He won t let me see my mamma. I miss my mamma. She said he was gonna look after, when she couldn’t be here. I’m used to being by myself now.

I didn’t know what to do… this poor kid he’s in so much pain… 

What about your real father, kid… tell me about him ?

The child’s cry softened, though his nose was covered in snot and his eyes red… 

I think he was strong, I think he’d fought in the army and died there and no one wanted me to know… that’s why they don’t say anything at all about him. Or maybe he found another family in a nicer place.  He probably couldn’t leave, so he needed to keep them safe. He knew mama would take care of me… and if thats so… I know he’d lay awake at night wishing he could have met me. I know just like me he prays for the moment we could see eachother again, whether I’m 20 years older or now. That man down there ain’t nothing to me. 

…

3

Keyhole

The man walked towards the door, grabbed and turned the knob once more. He pulled then pushed, tried to unlock it then knelt down and with a hand placed on the sun burnt and splintery wooden door, peered through the keyhole. He couldn’t see much, only colours, reflecting from different lights.

He wondered about the boy’s name and thought to ask but he found it hard enough already talking to the boy, his mind drifting while scraping away dust. 

Leaning in against the door, positioning  his eye to the keyhole and looking in; He still couldn’t see much… Just the pretty colours, orange and red suffocating in a patch of blue.

The boy sat around, peering through his belongings, first noticing the bowl of water on the ground… 

Mama said we couldn’t keep him in the house, he was a good kitty, he don’t bite or scratch  more of  a neighbour nowadays, but I always used to leave him food out. 

The boy had stepped over the fireplace and found the pouch of old tobacco. He recognised them, they were always around in every room. They were always empty 

He asked The Man if he was gonna die now?…looking at the back of the man still investigating through the keyhole. 

Not because of any cigarette…  He said turning around … maybe if everything went right eventually and i had all i wanted… a nice happy life that’s when they’d kill me… hand that over now… stretching his arm out, placing the pouch into his pocket. 

I’m tired and I need to sit down. 

                                                                     4

  First day of spring 

Without warning September came, that’s when I was most beautiful and everything didn’t have to make sense or be explained by some holy poetry. No fancy words, no allegory and At his funeral I thought you were the prettiest but you were the loneliest.

The first day of spring where all my death could grow back, if only it knew how the flowers did… hiding inside the stems of plants. Things could’ve been worse… but also so much better. If I had a second chance I’d replant this place… not just shrubs and succulents but trees and flowers, like magnolias and marigolds… maybe vegetables, we wouldn’t have to travel so far into town. I’d like to plant strawberries. But I think their last seeds were trampled on long ago. 

A certain Tree, maybe it was the shagbark… or the flowering dogwood, they used to grow here… they’d been before us and they’ll be back maybe after we are gone. A small tree of the Cornaceae family… they’d dress in white and bloomed red berries. I think it was the horse who ate them the most. If I can, I’d like to have something like that planted beside him. 

The Man saw these moments in his head… they passed along as something sweet, Like the fruit he picked as child, while following an old recipe turned them into jam and filled 3 old jars… They moulded in the kitchen cabinet.

Black rock blended coffee boiled slowly beneath him, bubbling over… eventually. The sun was setting on the final hours of spring… The night sky began to collapse down on us. 

The Priest hadnt moved … he was the only who still remained. He appeared to watch the young boy… the child didn’t notice, but I did. I looked over to the grave where he stood, my eyes dirty and filled with loathing, a hate I couldn’t quite understand anymore.

Back at me his eyes hated me too. One leg went over the poorly dug grave… followed by the other.  Head down  moving towards the house the old man slivered and pushed himself closer. The rising moon might have burned his back if it were anything as brutal as the sun. coming closer… so close to me again… desping him, not saying a word. The child became aware and trembled standing behind me. I was no one’s savour.

5

Close to me 

He just had to stay and wait around. The Boy is scared, ill have to make him leave… i want  curse him right in his fucking ugly  face… No one should be this afraid of their own blood, that they need to hide behind a stranger. Who gave him the right?… I thought again. I stepped over the fire as the wind had put it out. Then I’d meet him down the stairs. 

 I felt it quite powerfully today… the tugging of a chain around my ankle. The spring that faded how he was just like the man who took it all away from me… the kid was nearly in tears…  I had told him he was the last person I’d wanna see cry.

The funeral was over… there was no need for him still hanging around. The priest looked somewhat not alive anymore, his face was hollow but full of  horror, his eyes drifted in different directions, he held his head up to the sky at an awkward angle. Hissing  towards the child. 

you leave, leave right now. I dont give a fuck,  Don’t think i dont know exactly what you are, sick old man.  The Old priest didn’t even look at the man talking

thoughts filled my head rushing then subsiding… I had lost a layer of feeling in my skin, I wanted to hurt him for how he hurt me all those times…. You are a selfish Predator, the way you spoke today, that hollowed drivel… look at me…. LOOK at me. He wanted to grab his jaw and twist it towards him. 

He finally  turned to  me  and said ‘ you Exhausted him, drained him till death. did u even feed the animal or did u think it would feed itself, you romanticised it…. You killed it. You’re blind killer like us all…. you project your  hatred onto me. 

I reached for my back pocket, removed the pouch opening it, grabbed a filter that laid betwixt the tobacco and put it between my lips. 

The priest continued to berate me , I couldn’t hear a word he said.  

you could’ve taken care of it, you didn’t love it and it never loved you.

Soft sounding… pretty even, the alarms rang in between my ears  . I opened the rothfield papers, pulled one out and laid a few pinches of tobacco in the middle, massaging and moulding it in. 

  he was probably scared of you… his tormentor and now you kidnap my child and burn holes into the floor. 

Son, looking deeply and in vile at the boy, you are my son, now walk over to me.  Gesturing  him forth unto him, peering into the boy, half blinding the child under gleaming  blue knives that cut up ur insides deeper than any flesh wound. No matter how rotten or unloveable.

The boy’s back smacked against the front door.  A shaking was heard inside the house… something moved. The Father stepped outside the gaze of the man, reaching out for the boy. I could only stand and watch for a moment 

He moved like a brutal wind snapping  stems of dying houseplants… blowing perpetuity messing up your hair when you’re already too ugly to see your own reflection. He was the anger in the wind and draining of the soil. 

The boy was a reflection… In almost every way, when he was sad I remember being him, young and so scared. I forgot how scared we could be. I saw him turn away… I saw me grip his “fathers” face, turn it towards my thumb pressing down on his left cheek and my four other fingers on the right side… for a split moment I saw his blue eyes … all their torment and i watched the brightness damper.

I took my cigarette out of my mouth with my other hand … it laid between my thumb and pointer, in the moment that i had grabbed his face, i smothered the burning end and drowned it in his right eye. 

….

PART III

Forever & Always 

After one day, I just never lost the feeling I was dying, like every day they flick one switch off at a time making me slower… so slow I’m melting. It’s so hot… Something isn’t good with my body. I’m not present, not even right now. I’m so tired I think I need to sit down and brew some coffee on the fire. Or did I already do that…. I don’t think this is the right place anymore, there’s a part of me that thinks we only stopped here because it was the first place i didnt wanna go anymore, he chuckled to himself 

He just stood there after, hopeless like a blind dying dog. A fractured head dining on waves of blissful dissociation. Just let me see the nice times… the worlds we slipped through on the way here … water we swam and how dripped in it walking home, Like the blood escaping  between the gaps of the pained priest’s hand. 

An Old Man struggling to be alive anymore, writhing… clutching his right eye as he’d fell towards the hard dirt floor. 

I felt so many things watching him pain like that… pain that i created. No remorse but I was guilty. Everything moved so slowly. I just sank beside him. The poor kid was gone and the door was beginning to close again. Watching as the wind  may guide it shut, my mind fell endlessly  to the sounds of his ever berating screams …vicerely filtering itself calmly to my muffled ears.

The moment’s shock passes. It always does … He must’ve fainted from the pain, quiet again…. Now, like the money spent, I Emptied the tobacco pouch, Over the floor and stared so  lifelessly as the brown chemically infused flakes blended into the dirt and blew away. I  stepped over the unconscious Old Man. One step goes over, first the right leg followed by his other. He climbs the stairs as the door is finally closing itself,the process is halted and by pulling back his arm the door is open again. 

over/underdressed

Inside felt darker than any night sky. The door finally shut behind Him… again it felt like crossing worlds. The absence of lighting oozed head splitting shocks of horror, quieting into a cerebral stabbing all over his body … .The walls smelt like they were covered in mould.

An arm floating on clouds of nothing …reaching and feeling out. He grabbed onto some railing which led upstairs, he knew he might have to climb them eventually, but continued  walking forward… he  eventually felt a small table holding an old lamp.

He touched against it and descended the shade to find the neck and feeling for the on switch. There it was before the bulb he pushed it, giving a small insignificant light to the room.  

Whatever reason He was here… it didn’t make sense anymore. Whether there ever was a happy family that knew him here, or any reason at all… maybe then the layers inside his thoughts were peeling away and through delusion he was an adventurer for a time… although maybe there was nothing here to find. Whether he knew that didn’t matter. 

I wanted to make sure the child was safe…if I’m here the rest of it  doesn’t matter as long as I can help him, there would be a hero’s story, I could do good for someone… It’s too late for me, he can have anything.  Everything else was callous and I was indifferent to it. I had only stopped to think. He had not moved a muscle since turning on the lamp.

Being inside again was comforting almost a cool rag on my  damaged skin. I hoped Will felt he did right when he died… I hope he was who he wanted to be that night.. I hope he wasn’t sad that I never said goodbye to his face. Everything feels inevitable now. I’m happier that way. It makes more sense this way… this is not my house, he is still young so life could be paradise, if he stays in the right places and doesn’t ruin it all like I did. I’m cursed to just ride it out , he can do it right. 

There was a clock on the wall, it was broken, what the time was, i couldn’t tell. A nice wooden table, facing a small boxed television. That cat was asleep there. He said hey to the cat, speaking softly… too deep in sleep she couldn’t hear… i didnt pat it, I didn’t want to accidentally scare her. 

// The Dress Mannequin 

A small quaint guest room, it was the only bedroom on the house’s first floor. He followed where  he thought the boy might’ve gone. The bed was already made… everything was extremely tidy. An old wooden wardrobe filled with all sorts of clothing stood in the corner of the room , Between it and the bed.  

Someone or rather something  hovered there..a blank carved face as well a torso. A mannequin … for an old dressmaker.  looks like it used to have arms attached.

It was very old,  it was made by hand… older hands. I had lost track of myself… I found it harder to stay here. I hope I’m not  really here then… those words sounded shameful slipping out of my head. He looked at the mannequin.. Maybe needing someone to hear his stressful thoughts. Minutes rested on his breath, white noise, a song vibrating through the soil… blooming psychopathy, now another piercing in my stomach.  

He had so many different articles of clothing, all so much more different then the last, i couldn’t decide but there were so many ways to dress him differently … I looked through the hats but none fit. I’m only here for a brief visit. Next I am on my way, I wonder if my aunties may even recognise me anymore. 

I Found a way into your house 

He couldn’t stand for a moment longer, his face met the ground hard but it didn’t matter to him. All that matters was the constant blinking in the darkening place …

 Surrounded by the concrete walls, just my bed and my door. I thought of installing a window so I could feel the sun in the morning. 

I stood in between my bed and the front door, i haven’t been outside yet… I walked back and forth… Though I haven’t been outside yet… I fell back on my bed. The light switch flicks on inside the house next door. There’s something happening out there… I see it through the window I built…

If I could see them they could see me, I didn’t know people lived there… I’m violated, I feel their peering eyes looking in. I rolled a cigarette, and I stabbed him in the eye. Was he crying on the floor before he passed out?… I’d never seen him cry before. The bed was soaked. someone was still moving inside the house right beside me. I got up quickly and marched outside. Just four walls and roof of concrete, two bland cubes stuck together. I was inside now and I climbed his stairs.  Was I still awake? after hitting my head onto the floor? Am I back at the house looking for the boy? Are these the same stairs? I walked past the cat … didn’t i? She stretched her neck towards me  and softly grazed her fur with my hand while passing.

The kind of heartache 

The front door was blowing open. The wind pushed it off its hinges and collapsed. He didn’t worry anymore. Not now that he knew where to go

I followed the dream… ascending the stairs… I couldn’t keep my attention on any glass shattering around the house. On the wall, half way between up and down. There was a framed landscape of a horse in a hilly field. It felt like I had been there once… I squeezed whatever I was feeling down the back of my throat. The lights were out and it was pitch black, he held onto the railing… Opening the cigarette lighter to see if there was anything at all.

 crouching around a corner, it was more dangerous being caught upstairs in a stranger’s house, there was no way to explain it was an accident…. I recognized my old room and swallowed it … Though it wasn’t mine anymore.  Poor kid he must be hiding in here, it’s where I always find him …  every time I grab and twist the door handle open.

I knew I’d find a way into the room, it was exactly how I left it, but at the same time it was nothing like mine, there was nothing on these walls anymore. I had  come back after all this time. The boy was curled up asleep in bed, I tried my best not to wake him, he needed to rest … seeing me act so violently today. It was the least I could do.  Deciding  I’d wait beside him by the window where the sun would come out soon. And we could leave. 

I sat, peering out the  window, lighting the candle on the sil. Sometimes I looked through the neighbouring house, no one was inside at the moment…. Sometimes I looked out and I saw the dirt and dust, where the old man,  who had lifted himself up from the ground , his right eye was permanently damaged, he now looked like the monster he had convinced us he already was. I picked up the toy horse on the boy’s desk, my favourite toy. 

Growing up here I had so many toys like this. It was nice to be reminded of WIll.  I stayed in the chair looking back and forth at the toy horse and watching  outside the window.  Then tensing when i heard footsteps inside the house

Could time here be ending? Is he coming to kill me? I questioned gripping the toy tightly in my hands.

 Thud…. 

THUD

THUD

Someone was coming, I looked at the boy so deep in sleep, until the door eventually cracked open, unfolding the inside of the room that opened like a book. It wasn’t who I thought it was ‘mama’ … I don’t think she could see me in the corner. She looked so unhappy here.

Was she glad her boy was already asleep, now that father was near? it was better for the boy to not be there. I could take his place… perhaps if I eventually  follow them to the next room. 

The mother walked closer towards him and kissed the child on the head. It was sweet  she whispered how much she ; loved him and wished him goodnight and that tomorrow everything would change and that they’d move away  someday soon 

I was still waiting… She left his side and was about to leave until she abruptly  turned around and walked closer to me. Reaching out in the darkness and grabbed the horse toy right from my hands 

When she stood in front of me I realized I didn’t recognise her. I wanted to tell her so much, that I came back to save them and I missed them… how I had finally quit smoking. But she didn’t know me … she wasn’t anything to me,  she was his mother.

He thought while looking at the child… this isn’t my life anymore… I had to remember that. She said or did nothing but place the horse next to her sleeping child. 

He will Always 

He will always… no matter how many times i come back in my head, he always find a way inside, that’s ok he lived here too. He will always crawl upstairs… he’d smell bad. The door would always open for him. I felt so far away it all melded into a soft light in front of me, so blissful and blinding  but in this seat I could see everything.

He dragged her away… there was yelling and clawing the boy would always wake up broken and seething his face so red.

I found myself still, I eventually got my legs moving towards the door… how i wish i could have calmed everyone down. But it was my fault i should’ve never attacked him, now because of me he will take it out on her.

The boy laid on the ground exhausted and crying, pushing himself up and running towards the door. This time I didn’t let him leave, I closed the door on him and stayed in his room.

Nobody here

Why did people feel the need to own and control, I feel like a shit stain on the world. There’s no trust, no love. I’m just floating here again in this same old room watching something that’s already happened. Maybe I made it all up, maybe I wanted the kid to be screwed up like me. Maybe everything here was fine before i showed up then i saw what i wanted to see, and im the fucking animal who ruined everything.

The damage was done; it already seeped into the floorboards by now. He went to far, what fucking suprise! Im so fucking angry at him, i fucking hate me. I knew it would happen but i can never fuckin remember. 

Could he at least feel a bit of shame in front of me? Guilty he killed everything? Could he not show one ounce of fucking remorse my way ?? I’m losing my mind just standing here looking at him. 

 Now he tied  her to the chains that held her to the floor. Why did he bother? She was already not moving.

My feet felt the hard floor once more, he clicked the final lock around her ankle, keeping it all in place. My old father held the set of old keys  in his hand and hobbled towards me. I knew how small and quiet I always was, how nothing I could say could ever stop him.

I set my hands around his throat, and squeezed tight to block any air that might be escaping, ignoring every grunt and moan that he could muster…. I just gripped harder and tighter. To be held by his own son or a phantom of one,  a blistered eye still leaking  pus onto me. 

It was a cold dreamscape feeling, my hands slowly released him, without knowing why… Now that I no longer had the strength to hold him down, I stepped back, he had forced an old key inside my stomach, then another holding it in and twisting. 

Under a weary light in this hollowed out room, I let blood pool out of me, why not.

Again and again with a strong grip he forced these knives  all over my dying body… its funny even now he’s not changing anything, ever since I got here i was already dying… hahahaha. Nothing changes, nothing changes 

 It just never made any sense to have come here physically, ill never escape coming. Im bound to it…. he fucked it all up i dont get to live anymore beacause of him.  A deathly drone rattled behind my eyes… oh my eyes the same colours i always saw. I looked up to the ceiling , I lay and I lay and nothing had changed. 

I wondered if the  poor boy was still sleeping? I don’t remember. I want him to go, i’m scared he can’t do it himself just like me… i said i wouldn’t let this happen again 

I’d love to believe that by some sort of delusion I had created it all.. When I shoved the cigarette into his eye… he has always been the same… blood dripped from me to the floorboards, the dark red river followed me wherever I went.

The river had run so deep, the room filled into the hallway, I held  his head underneath the waves.  I took my hands from him and let him sink even though it’s exactly what he wanted from me .

The red River 

I’m up to my ears in blood, pouring out completely engulfing me so much that I can’t see through it, but never did I notice the water turn blue, it was now clear and beautiful, I could see the sun shining from the surface, I swam towards it.

 As my head broke through the water I saw it all again the water falling how calmly it sat and everything was so much more green than  I ever remembered. Why I wish I didn’t have to leave.

The Man was barely floating at all, beside him within the bush he had his camp and his horse. Walking onto land it all slowly dripped  from him, it still came out red. Patting the horse along his huge body. Looking at its eyes, they were so deeply brown. I’m so lucky to have had this time together. 

Bareback galloping alongside the river, between the trees and bejewelling flowers. As we flew by I looked down at the back of his neck. I carried his loss with me, I remember when he was dying, just right here  it hasn’t happened  yet, I was right here with him. I was dying too.

At the end of the day, the sky was now grey, I stood underneath the immense waterfall. The sun was nearly setting, the water fell onto me still warm, the nicest thing I’d felt in a while, it trickled down with just the right amount of pressure. 

The Murky deep red blood washed out, disappearing in the blue  from rotting wounds were the old keys I had removed. I  looked back once again at Will, he looked very happy. I thought this is where I’d like to leave him. It was never fair of me to take him away. As i sat to think the water turned red once more, i wanted to go sit back down but i was too weak i fell back into the water my head submerged, closing my mouth not to swallow.

 Broken in the path 

When I awoke I used the keys to release her, she faded as if it never happened, i stepped over his unconscious body, went back down the hall to our room, carried him over my shoulder, went down the stairs, petting the cat goodbye. Out the front door and placed the asleep child onto the back of the horse then I got up behind him. 

In two weeks time, we will be somewhere beautiful. For now we rode through our first patch of grass and there will be cliffs to cross soon.

I still lost blood continuously, I was so tired I needed to rest my eyes… so i did

Just for a moment. I looked down at the boy asleep on Will’s back. I only rested for a moment.

As the horse galloped, The Mans Pale corpse could no longer hold on he fell and laid broken in the middle of the path. 

The end