3 comments

Adventure Fantasy Speculative



If I hold my breath, I won't confuse the movements of my limbs with the expansion of my chest. My muscles aren't working right. I'm suspended slightly by the air, unable to get my footing and turning to stone as I wrestle an atmosphere rapidly thickening like caramel simmering in a pot. My suspension breaks. The air is gone, and a gravitational force rips me down and pins me to the ground. A glass tube encircles me. It feels like I'm being sucked into the 2nd dimension.


Wasn't I running from something? The ground releases me as the air above pulls at my arms and I'm siphoned up the tube, my stomach sliding close to the wall. Everything is suddenly wet and water splashes into my face. The wall disappears beneath my stomach and shock bolts through my spine. I am falling. I gasp in as my body smacks down into a pool of what feels like Jello. Desperately, I breathe it in like oxygen. Blackberries... No, it smells like black cherries. I try to swim up. I can't get anywhere in this. Squirming, I manage to roll, then a breeze rushes over the front my body. On my back, I wave my arms through the liquid. My eyelids part and an army of trees is towering over me like giants clothed in fire.  


There's something over there. I keep leaning my chin in until it propels my body upward so I'm standing just outside the pond, facing a tree so large you could carve a skyscraper into it. Something invisible singes lines into the bark and then the brandings glisten. I can't tear my eyes away. Windows and doors appear all over and balls of warm light float all around me. One hollow spot in the tree glows violet and I can hear a faint thrumming of music echo out from it. I'm supposed to be there. 


I lift my foot onto a thick root that's rising into an arch above the ground. As I pull my body up to stand on it, I can see the violet light beginning to shrink and the music quiets. The door is closing. I need to get in there. It's my dad's birthday. 


I launch myself off of the root and try to alternate my legs as I land, but I don’t. The leaves blanketing the forest floor are swallowing me like quicksand. I'm breathing hard now. The pounding of my heart seems to hammer me down beneath the leaves. Just as they bury my face, I flail my arms up and smack the foliage away. I shake my head and double take the dirty brick walls on either side of me. On the wall behind me, blue spray paint outlines a smiley pit-bull wearing a fedora. I know this alleyway. I used to pass by here on my way to school. Dad used to walk me. I inhale sharply. It's his birthday. I have to get to that party. It must be around here somewhere. 


I pick myself up and rub the grit of asphalt and damp leaves off the back of my jeans. As I turn the corner out of the alley, a yellow bus whistles to a stop on the street beside me. The doors part and my sister stares down at me from the driver's seat. “Aren't you coming?” Her face looks annoyed, but her voice sounds worried. I hop onto the bus and head past the occupied seats toward the back. People are standing in the aisle. I can't see past them. I squeeze my way around one man, and then another. A stroller blocks the aisle and I look over to the woman sitting beside it.


“Excuse me, can I just–,” I start, but the woman shakes her head. "Not mine," she says flatly. I step over the short front of the stroller and stare down at a jar of Greek olives, nicely strapped in. A lumpy sea of gold puppies stretches around my feet as I land, blocking the way. I don't want to step on them, but I need to find a seat so we can get going. I get on my hands and knees and start to shuffle through the pups. A bitch is waiting for me at the back, her paw out on top of a chessboard. "I get to be the knight, this time, it seems," I don't know why I say that. The pooch squints like she knows me and nods toward the empty seat beside her.


I twist to take the bench and look over. Grandma is sitting next to me, resting her head against the window. Her eyes are closed. She must be sleeping. There's a small, bubblegum pink tricycle wrapped in her arms. Why is she holding that? I don't need it anymore. I stare past her out of the window as we pass a group of men in colorful suits digging in the attic of a small shack. Their black umbrellas pop out in unison as the city darkens and rain pours from the sky. The sidewalk instantly transforms into a shallow river. As the bus sails upstream, we pass figures on top of a car shooting bottle rockets toward the neighbor's yard. The bus slows as we turn onto the adjacent street. A small figure is balled up on a step leading to a familiar apartment building. 


Is that me in the mirror, there? The window glass flashes in and out of focus. “Stop!” I fly out of the bus and over the rolling water. Grabbing the iron railing, I land upon the steps just below the spot where I see myself huddled. I'm so young there. A tiny, shaking ball. “Hey- It's okay. What happened?” I don't even look up at myself, I just continue to…laugh? Those teeth. I don't remember them being so big. Ecstasy threatens my core with mimicry and the door to the building bursts open, illuminating both of me in a ray of violet light. I can't see her, but I hear Mom's voice through the pounding music, urging little me inside. I get up to follow but the door slams as I take the top step. 


I need to get in there. Dad's birthday. I yank the door handle, hard. At first it doesn't budge but I focus my will until it yields and then fling myself inside. The light is gone. It's quiet. Then drips of water echo off the concrete. I'm in a parking garage. There’re metal trash cans and bags everywhere. No cars in sight. As I walk down the slope toward an elevator, I hear rummaging among the trash bags. I keep going. Must be racoons. They're always getting into our trash. When I find Dad, he'll get rid of them. 


The slope narrows and the rummaging gets louder. I hear clanging and a wub rings behind me. It sounds like tin spinning on a solid floor. I feel my body freeze in terror. Not racoons. I know what it is, now. I know, but I dare not look. I feel a familiar heat building behind me. It's that bear, again. The one I tried to run from earlier, when my body wouldn't work. I can hear him breathing. I walk forward, increasing my speed but trying to move discreetly. My breath catches. I can see my own back and the shaggy, brown beast is gaining on me. I should be frozen solid. 


I feel like my heart is going to burst out of my chest as I scramble my limbs as hard as I can and manage to swing myself into the elevator. My fingers stab viciously at the buttons and my heart skips as the doors meet just in time. Pressing my palms into my knees, I try to catch my breath. Something’s moving near the corner of the floor. I blink at the family of mice peeking out at me from a football sized hole in the elevator wall. A violet light glows out from inside. One of the mice waves their paw at me to follow them. They turn and I grip the floor, staring into the hole. 


The mice stop in the middle of the space behind the wall. A… cheese wedge? is carved into a sculpture of the number “32.” It glitters under a miniature disco ball and the mice are dancing flamboyantly around it. “Um…hello,” I whisper cautiously into the hole. The smallest mouse turns and scurries up to me, “When are you going?” it squeaks. 


“My dad’s birthday,” I gasp inaudibly. The party. That night he– I reject the idea of finite events. There's no room for that here.


The elevator doors open to a small bed in front of me, piled with crayons. Thousands of crayons. “Clean your room, please!” I hear my mom's voice distantly. As I step out of the elevator, I turn back. The closet is stuffed with tiny shoes and plush animals. Someone left the light on. I reach in and pull the chain, but it doesn't work. I turn back toward the bed. Where am I going to put all these? I start digging through my dresser and all the drawers are filled with hole-puncher clippings. I grab a pillow from the bed and peel off the pillowcase. As I try to hold it open with one arm, I use the other to rake crayons into it. So many crayons. I start to lift the case up and everything spills out from the bottom onto the floor. There's shaving cream all over my legs. Should I go wash this off? I need to find some pants. I look up toward where my bedroom door should be. 


A fish tank stretches the height of the wall. I move to the tank, crouch and squint. I stand on my toes and check every tunnel. All I can see is water and air bubbles. Where did the fish go? Maybe they're at the party. I pull at my tight swimsuit, trying to stretch it out. My hands cup around my face against the glass. I can see the hallway beyond the tank. A door across the hall cracks open and lets out a sliver of violet light. I hear the music again, but it starts to skip. The party. If I could just make it over there…


My stomach drops. My dad is in there. I start to feel as though the earth might drop from its position in space and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I pound on the glass, panicking, hoping to get someone's attention. The back of my dad's head bobs past the gap in the doorway. “Dad!” I can feel glass cracking against my fists. “Daddy!” my voice breaks into a roar as I throw the side of my body against the glass. I feel like I'm choking and the fish tank shatters into gallons of crashing water and glass spears that hit me like sand. My heart is beating too fast. Just a few more steps. I have to get to him– before I wake up.

November 04, 2024 22:36

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.

3 comments

20:36 Nov 10, 2024

Your writing is so fluid. This is just like how a dream works!

Reply

Show 0 replies
Cari Rodriguez
16:27 Nov 15, 2024

Note to self: work on I-action sentences, remove I see/hear/do and replace with declarative statements about the scene/situation.

Reply

Show 0 replies
Alla Turovskaya
20:25 Nov 14, 2024

There's something very special to your writing. Mesmerising. Following you. I wonder what you'd say about mine.

Reply

Show 0 replies
Reedsy | Default — Editors with Marker | 2024-05

Bring your publishing dreams to life

The world's best editors, designers, and marketers are on Reedsy. Come meet them.