The Eyes of Ignorance

Past a field of Lollypocks, through a barren-leaf forest, under a festering mother tree, and between the red gates. A short trip.

Our world and the veil was rife with all sorts of creatures, a malignant sprite to your left, a whispering fae to your right, an ugly abomination throughout, there was no escaping the interactions that would be made but I could do my best to ignore them, pretend that I was like any other human-ling, blind to their existence. When the man behind the wall told me I could rid myself of this vision, that I could be like other humans, I jumped at his proposal. I took his hand. Maybe that was a bit insane of me but it worked out, in exchange, the man gifted me a map of words. He likened the trip through the veil to be an adventure, something to look forward to, as if I was a toddler. I suppose for him, everyone was a toddler. But I’m not quite so gullible, I know the things hidden in that world, at least a portion of the horrors it holds. And I was going anyway. Not because I was gullible, although, you could make the argument. No, I was going because of the promise he made me. The promise of normalcy. It’s the only thing I’ve ever wished for and when wishes brought me nothing, I became adamant to rid myself of it through means other than prayer.

Stuffing the map into my backpack, I tiptoed my way out the window of my room, and made way to a tear in the veil. If all went well, I would be back by sunrise. 

I hoped, at least, I would be back.

On the best of days, the fae shifting through my world of supposed normalcy would appear to be nothing more than fading colors of light, like a blob of red or green floating in the air. Today would not be one of those days. Perhaps it was just a bad day, perhaps the veil made the invisible more real but as I gazed at the tear marking my path to the only thing that would make me happy, I saw more than the usual blurry outlines of slightly humanoid creatures floating and marching on the other side of the pale-tinged veil. 

Like a typical fairy from stories, the majority of the creatures existing on the other side were miniature, more akin to large bugs than fairies. But the black eyes, the smiles that parted into vicious rows of teeth, the constant buzzing. I’d rather not assume they were friendly, usually, nothing was. 

Stepping through the tear, I welcomed the invading chill and the pale gloom that enveloped this side of the world. A cloud, I was inside a cloud. But the slapping of waves to land, the feeling of solid ground, if I stuck my hand out in front of me, it would be invisible. I was cast onto the edge of a shore, whether it was a lake or a ocean I could not know, the mist was too thick, the basalt columns below me replaced the sand I was used to, the fairies or whatever the hell those things were, they existed here too, never visible through the mist, but their buzzing could always be heard, a constant reminder.

Lollypocks, the first landmark, a field of Lollypocks. 

What the hell were Lollypocks? I never bothered to study up on my supernatural fauna, a mortal consequence. Then a barren-leaf forest, I could spot dead trees. I would just have to settle for that.

Laying low to the damp basalt, I made way opposite the water, stopping when the buzzing became louder and speeding up when it dimmed, through a trial of fatal stop and go, I eventually made way to an opening in the mist, the basalt below turned green and soft and a more familiar environment greeted me.

At the top of a grassy knoll, the pervading buzz of fae wasp’s, that’s what I decided to call them, disappeared entirely. So too did the mist stay on that shore, what was before me now was a valley painted green, waving grass filled the space between me and what I saw on the other side, not a mile away. A forest. The leaves had long fallen, the bark had since dried, the essence and liveliness of a forest was stripped from it and now all that was left were the decaying trunks serving as gravestones to a forgotten ecosystem. A barren-leaf forest.

Past a field of Lollypocks. This grass? 

I bent down to inspect what really covered the knoll and valley but as I did, a faint buzz chirped from behind me. Looking past the mist I came from, the silhouette of a beady eyed sharp mouthed flying fae wasp slowly made its way onto the grassy knoll and stared at me, unmoving, unblinking. 

Its buzzing stopped.

I raised myself to get a better look and as I did, the buzzing that I once associated with these fae wasp’s became a distinct clicking, louder than the buzz but with a slower cadence. Emerging to the left of the first fae came a second, its buzzing also morphed into a grating click and a third and a fourth and a fifth and soon the number became ten then one hundred and as the mist parted to the arriving fae I felt the goosebumps rise, the sweat on my brow beginning to form. 

Thousands. I couldn’t have fathomed the number in the mist. They all looked at me, the black of their eyes vibrating, some grinned. When the last of their numbers arrived from the mist, the clicking sped up, every one of them shared the same rhythm, and as these clicks grew to the sound of constant screeching, to the point where my ears rang and the ground below me shook, all went still. The first among them took a half-step in the air before they all erupted into a savage buzz from their stagnant positions and made way for the prey in front of them, the delicious meal or plaything or human. Me.

Forget the knoll or the forest or normalcy I was being chased by the shrieks of a thousand creatures that would rip me apart flesh from bone like piranhas set on a bleeding trout and I began my desperate struggle of flight straight to the forest unaware of what I was stepping on because I didn’t care for anything but running or hiding or escaping. 

I just wanted to live.

My feet kicked the grass into the sky, running downhill was a challenge in and of itself but with grass grabbing at my feet it became almost impossible to hold myself upright and continue my flight from the abominations behind me, my backpack became a hindrance so I flung it off and continued running downhill, unaware that the grass had grown to envelop my shins then my knees and at that point I was no longer running downhill but falling against the grass that would hold me back and at the base of the knoll, where the grass had grown to my hips I finally gave way, tripping over myself and landing on the comforting grass whilst rolling to the base of the knoll. 

It was then I noticed the sound of buzzing ceased. In a fluster I raised myself in anticipation of a thousand creatures salivating above me. Instead, what greeted me was a sea of green, as if I were beneath veridian waves. Beautiful. I knew I shouldn’t have thought that when my life could have been in potential danger but I was mesmerized, trapped in the impossible charm of a foreign environment.

I could have stayed there forever.

I pinched myself hard to shake the sense of bewitchment. Lollypocks. These were Lollypocks, not grass, similar as they may be. They shared the same green, the same texture, and the same feel but they were taller than I was. This was the same fauna atop the knoll, but when had it grown to such an abnormal height? Why did I not notice? Why am I still sitting down?

Angered at my lack of survival instincts, I pulled on the heavy grass and raised myself once more, still listening for the eerie clicks and deadly buzzing but nothing besides the wash of air passing above waving Lollypocks.

The map was lost back on the knoll, so were all the snacks I put in my backpack. Past a field of Lollypocks, through a barren-leaf forest, under a festering mother tree, and between the red gates. I recited the words to affirm I had not totally lost everything.

Not yet.

The man behind the wall told me stories of his time in the veil. He was born here, somewhere. He doesn’t talk much about the days of his youth but when he grew to be an adult, he explored most of the veil, documented much of its inhabitants, he always talked as if it was an adventure to experience this otherworldly horror, perhaps he hoped I would follow in his footsteps, go out and explore the greater world hidden to most human-lings. I was not him. I didn’t even know if it was a he or her or a human. All I knew was that he decided to help me, for a price albeit, a rather cheap one in my opinion. 

It was around this time that I wished he never helped me at all.

An aberrant jostle to my right, the faint rustle of wading grass in my peripheral, the thick grass was only that and much more so the further I ventured in, it became puddy at one point, the individual stems of the Lollypocks so smothered together that it was impossible to force my way forward. So I went to the right, ignoring the faint shadows I swore I saw every now and again. I could not know how far I got into the field or how much farther I would have to tread without taking a leap above the Lollypocks. I could do it. Jump above them. But everytime the thought entered my mind, my finger would twitch and my legs would go numb.

Convincing myself that it was the only way forward, I punched the shaky knees that would hold me back and leaped above the Lollypock field. Thrice the distance. It was not a mile anymore but at least three to the barren-leaf forest, how? I pinched my eyes and jumped once more to confirm the new distance.

As I came up for a second peak, the sewn eyes of a marble-skinned entity standing above the Lollypocks gazed at me, the sewn mouth below ripped apart to open into a gaping maw before I landed back on my feet and the soft waving of air above me became a sudden shredding of wind and the faint shadows I convinced myself didn’t exist erupted into being, the thickness of the Lollypocks just enough to shield my eyes from the majority of the pale sewn monster that appeared larger as the moments went by.

Again Gods again I ran the opposite direction or what I thought was opposite from the blind monster but who could know in a maze of fauna that played tricks with distance who knew how close the thing with a jaw large enough to swallow small children was behind me I didn’t check I didn’t want to know so I ran until my lungs broke from my ribs and the sweat under my arms bleached my shirt a dirty beige and still I couldn’t stop because the wind above me was no longer the faint waves I heard before but a violent whipping of air and I knew it was behind me but I couldn’t look I just couldn’t because it was right there I knew it was it was right there.

Right here.

With a spindly arm, the abomination clawed at my ankles tripping me. It was upon me now, still I couldn’t bring myself to look at it, I didn’t bother fighting or running or trying to survive. It was right here. My death. So I closed my eyes, the waving of faint air absent as the sound of heavy breathing came closer to my face and a viscous fluid that could only be saliva drenched my hair. It smelled like wet grass. 

For the next hour or day or week maybe I stayed there, the heave of its lungs still audible the entire time, the scent of wet grass still invading my nostrils. It was still here. Waiting. The moment I opened my eyes, I knew it would pounce, an opportunity to strike me, maybe it just wanted to play with me before devouring me I couldn’t know.

I was going to die whether or not I opened my eyes, starvation or dehydration or a combination was better than being eaten alive but I couldn’t just let go. I had a life to get back to. Normalcy was, well, maybe I was better off without it. If it meant coming here to obtain it, I would rather live with these cursed eyes the rest of my life.

Wiping the dry tears from my face, I stood against the heave of the monster’s breath. It went shallow for only a moment before the towering beast stood over me, blocking out the bleached sun of this world from my closed eyes. Turning around I walked the opposite direction using my arms as a cane to feel the world around me, the heavy stomping of long limbs thudding behind me as I did. A tear, that’s what I needed to find now, a tear in the veil to bring me back and away from this world forever.

I just wanted to live.

If I was fated to walk this field forever, I wondered if I would eventually become the monster behind me. I wondered many times if I was not already a monster, if I was human why could I see these beasts and creatures while no one else could? The man behind the wall said it was a curse for the naive but a blessing for the tempered. Ignorance was not bliss, he would say those words when I came to him, usually with an especially malignant fae on my tail. And when I cried, he would say that those tears proved I was alive, that I bested a world which so desperately wanted to kill me. He hated this place, I know he did but he loved it just as much, it was his adventure land, his birthplace. 

So when my tears fell anyways, prodding for an escape from an impossible maze with an abomination following me whilst I was essentially blind, I couldn’t help but hate that I was still alive, still experiencing this harrowing journey. It was no adventure. 

I wished for ignorance.

The puddy that was once Pollylock stems soon gave way to a more lenient feel, the heaving of hot breath behind me grew to a rasp and sooner a grating exhale, the thudding of steel limbs became quakes and the occasional drip of saliva transformed into a constant stream. When my fingers struggled to grasp at odd stems and I no longer tripped on every step, I wondered if I was coming upon the grassy knoll I ran from. The wasps. Honestly, they were preferable to the sewn eyed monster behind me. But as I kept walking, the quaking stomps and constant drip of saliva grew only further, the washing of air slowly made its way back to my world and the outstretched fingers before me landed on a firm object.

It was dry and rough and it overpowered the smell of the now forgotten wet grass. Never before was I happier to receive a splinter.

Opening my eyes, the bleached sun had become much brighter and I squinted to gaze at the tree in front of me, dead and shriveled with leaves long dead.

A barren-leaf tree with a forest to accompany it.