In life and death // 1 (3)
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It was a beautiful day. The grass was glistening in dew and the sun was playfully crowning the heads of the daisies. I heard a lonely mockingbird wasting away it´s precious time playing melodies. It was a beautiful day. Full of joy and happiness. I watched the toddlers running uphill to the great meadows and the main village. But I liked it here. Isolated and alone. I´d say alone in the darkness but the sun was bright as hell. In my mind was were it was dark. A heavy black veil had covered my clear thinking. It pressured me every single second and here, Downhill, I finally felt safe. Safe for both my and the others. I was too numb to feel anything, although my senses weren´t as dull as you might´ve expected – my sight was clearer than ever and I could even hear a butterfly flapping it´s wings. I could end up hurting someone being among the others.
I walked up to the edge of the cliff that marked the end of the village. I folded my dress, sat down and crossed my legs. Were had it all gone wrong? The warm soil was so inviting and I gently laid down my head and started humming a quiet melody.
Tears are dropping
Eyes are flooding
Flowers are blooming
Birds are singing
I am mourning
Others are joying
I was surprised myself too that I remembered that old lullaby grandma sang me when grandpa passed away. But this was different. Grandpa was ill, he had been for years. He left in peace, knowing it would happen, he said his farewells and just went to „a better place“ as they tend to say. I don´t believe that. He´s was just gone and never going to come back, never ought to feel anything more. He died not moved away to a better cottage. He knew it and I knew it – it was the end.
Suddenly I felt the ground wet and realized I had bursted into tears. My mum just died, that seemed the natural thing to do. But crying was the worst I could do. I wanted to shout, tear apart this whole pathetic place, scream on top of my lungs. And then it came to me.
I could just end it. As simple as that. I pointed my eyes to the bottom of the gorge and thought about it. I really had nothing left to lose. My muscles were already twitching for the jump but then came the cold feet. And I knew. I couldn´t have done it. Even if I wanted to. And I still was not sure if I even did want to. So I stood there, a gentle summer breeze lushing my bare feet. I suddenly had a feeling this would all soon change.
There were some things I needed to do. It was an urgent matter to find money. Lots of it. Granny had some pennies hidden away from me but that was all, at least what I knew of. I painfully tried to leave the cliff behind me, put one feet in front of the other just as if I had forgotten how to walk properly. I had to go all the way uphill to work my way back to the cottage. I didn´t have that much strength. I had sat there for hours, passive, blank-sighted, my throat was dry and stomach hurt. I fell on my knees and started crawling towards the passage. There was a way through the mountains that I tended to use. It was slippery and rocky but there was a bigger chase I would make it alive to the village than going over the mountains.
Cold Teeth, that´s what they called the mountains. You could see the range from every household of the village. It rarely happened that the sun blushed the mountain´s cheeks but today was one of these rare days. The usually cold and navyblue peaks had turned into a pleasant violet colour. They were the highest in the river-area. The peaks towered over my head stabbing the soft white cloudpillows.
The passage was just in front of me. I started something that vaguely resembled running but my foot got stuck in a minehole and I fell headlong . The last thing I remembered was warm blood streaming down my face.
It was a beautiful day. The grass was glistening in dew and the sun was playfully crowning the heads of the daisies. I silently heard a lonely mockingbird wasting away it´s precious time playing melodies. It was a beautiful day.
Autori kommentaar »
See jutt on liigitatud ulme/õuduse alla, sest ulme alla kuulub ka fantaasia. Ja sellest tuleb üks ultra-high-fantasy jutt, seda võin teile küll lubada.
Ootan väga teie parandusi, sest mu i