There is a force that I can’t
name, depriving me the air. All I’m sure of is that it squeezes me so tight; I’m
strangled, I’m unable to breathe. It’s like a molted stone has coated my heart
then got subjected to liquid nitrogen, crystalizing it. It’s unable to beat;
still and dead. My heart is dead and burning; it’s white as pure lime in water.
There is no blood pumping but I’m
moving though. I can control my body and my gestures but there is no blood
flowing in my streams. I try to hurt my fingers to see if there is blood
running in my veins but there isn’t any. There is no flesh that I can cut
through; my body is like a moving statue made of stone. The only way to see
what’s within me is to smash me against sharp rocks and I’m not even sure if
I’d be cracked open or the rocks would. It’s like I got carved in the mountains
then brought accidently to life through a thunder storm that struck me. It
feels that there were no prior intentions to my unintended existence.
I wander in the place; it seems
familiar. I’ve had visions of this place ever since I can remember. I’ve always
been part of it that was suddenly torn out. I live here, or I think I do, I
don’t know. I have no memory of anything. I have no feelings toward anything. I
don’t know the name of the place I am at. I don’t know what I am or what the
things that are surrounding me. I look at my hands and I look like me, the
thing I’ve always known I am; I’m wood. I’ve never walked or talked before. I
was always standing in my place, motionless but so much alive. I never walked
around the place before, but I’m sure it was never this ugly. I can’t recall
seeing these tombstones here, as old as time. I can’t recall any of this; the
river, the dead daffodils, the red moon, the castle that is covered with
spikes, none of it. I can’t recall this abhorring sight.
I used to be a motionless tree
but now I’m moving. Maybe that’s what happened with those things, maybe they
too had a sudden moment of movement?! But if they had, were they just as
confused as I am?! But I’m not a tree anymore; I have no roots, I have no
branches, I have no bird nests nor do I have my leaves and fruits. Have I gone
barren, or have I died and that’s what is left of me! I have no clue what is
that for I’m in or what are those things and why have they changed. Or maybe
they never changed, I have no concrete memory of anything, I know that I was a
tree but now I’m not and I don’t know what I am so how can I know what they are
or were. There is just this realm of uncertainty. It feels like walking on
water. Maybe I was curved or drawn onto something, or maybe I was a part of
something else that I don’t know. All I can remember is that I am brown, I’ve
always been.
I saw this flash last night,
bright and stinging. It was like a burning rage falling from the blue roof
hanging above my head. It seemed like the moon was crying, no wonder, I’m wet. It
was hurt, or maybe confused just as I am now. I can remember seeing this flash
coming towards me. It was a tremendous, blinding light targeting me in the
middle, somewhere here beneath my head. I can remember feeling a burn, an
enormous pain, a choke and a squeeze and then I fell to the ground unconscious.
That’s all that I can remember. Since it struck me, there must be a scar
somewhere here; it looks like it hit my heart.
A moment of epiphany, a pause, a
flash back like a video rewinding, it’s all here in my head now; all my
memories. I was a part of the tree; I was the tree. I’m a girl that was once
carved in this wood, now alive, by the hands of a little girl, a girl that
always had this calmness in her eyes; a calm spirit that can be mistaken with
sadness. No wonder she was calm, just like her name; Serene. She was the
graceful spirit giving life to us; her woods. One day she stopped visiting,
it’s the moment in which time has stopped. I used to see the world in her eyes
but with her gone, there was no world to be seen. She died so young that they
dug her grave beside the running river, watering the daffodils that died before
their time, just as she did. She was the breath of life given to us, the
motionless nature, unsympathetic to her pains. That explains it all. That’s why
I was choking, having a stone coated heart. That’s why I’m bloodless and beat-less;
I have no heart. No wonder it was still and dead, burning like lime in water. The
lightning struck the heart that Serene drew for me, it is not a real one but it
feels the pain nonetheless. Like a combination of lime and water, this burn I feel
in my shape is the burn she felt and we were unsympathetic to. The moon was
angry that it cried and struck me dead to only come to life. Just like lime gains life as it touches water, life burns. It only makes sense now, you have to die
in order to come to life, the disdainful existence of humanity and nature
alike.
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