"and if the sun shone, I'd rather not see it at all"

The room was pitch dark. Solid black. She opened her eyes and closed them again and realized there was no difference. She heard muffled voices, muttering downstairs. Sound travelled through the house like an epidemic. She couldn't quite make out the words to be anything other than unintelligible phrases. She somehow felt she was being talked about. Since Adelaide couldn't familiarize herself with the sight of the room, she inhaled the scent of it. So very peculiar. It smelled like her room. The scent, the atmosphere, the texture of the covers on top of her. This was her room. She was so very confused. How did I get here? her mind reeled with questions. Her doorknob twisted and rattled on the door, someone was coming in. She closed her eyes and threw the covers over her head like a child. If I can't see them, they can't see me.
Low, quiet voices conversed back and forth. She recognized one as her mother. Another as her father. What is he doing here? Her mother pulled the covers back, revealing Adelaide's face, observing her for a minute and tucking them under her chin. "She seems to be doing better. As soon as she wakes, we'll  be able to find out some things, hopefully" her mother whispered. Her father and mother softly stepped out of Adelaide's room and closed the door gently.
Hopefully, hopefully, hopefully. the word echoed in her mind like the sound of a gunshot in an open field. Empty, like her mind. So it seemed for the time being, anyway. Hopefully she'll be sane by then. Hopefully they'd understand. Hopefully she'd see the lion again and know it wasn't a dream.
Hopefully is just a word uttered to ensure hope. Especially when there is truly none to be found.
Adelaide sighed. She was tired although from what she had heard, she'd slept a rather lot. Mentally tired. She rose from her bed and went to her chalkboard. She had begged and begged for months for her mother to install blackboard in her walls. Now these walls had become a cornucopia of unexpressed knowledge, rough sketches, thoughts, words of her music and mind.
Upon one in particular she reserved for her friends. Deirdre, of course, had tainted her walls with her brilliance. Deirdre was the artist. Adelaide the writer.
Always the opposites. It worked, though, and neither complained.

Adelaide's room was a mess. As always, She lived by the phrase "In creativity, neatness doesn't count" as far as her housekeeping went. Her room was her sacred laboratory for words and sentences with pages sprawled everywhere. The pages her beakers and test tubes, the words her chemicals. Acids and solids and all manner of chaos. But somehow made it together on a page to make sense.
Very little made sense to Adelaide. In her mind, the world was this gigantic mass of unexplored ready to be discovered. She missed it.
She missed exploring her world. She'd been gone for so long, she couldn't remember when the last time she developed a simple photograph was. Or wrote a poetic phrase. It was rather pathetic

She loved her room. The different pieces on the wall. Everything piled together defined her esscence. A mess.

I am quite the mess. A mass of contradictions. perfectionistic. Imperfect. It made no sense. All the same. She didn't know how to be different in that respect. So she just did as she knew. She looked at her clock. 12:45 am

Back to bed.

There's only artificial light here

I wish I were winged. Deirdre trouped along with her laughing group of friends through the abandoned neighborhood. Her insides ached. She missed Adelaide. She longed for the presence of many who had flown from her. Yes...wings. When one sees a flock of birds dancing through the sky, it is no oddity for one to break off abruptly and begin to fly in another direction. But that is estrangement now. She would get countless questions if she told the party that she was going home. Sighing, she begrudging followed her group that seemed to loudly disturb this land's sacristy. She missed her constant solitude. Her only desire was to be alone. To mull through the thoughts and dreams that unceasingly haunted her. I wonder if....

Moments later, Deirdre found herself alone. It was as if her friends and her forsaking of them were a mere dream. It was all so very still. The sky's ceiling a opaque gray. Her breathing that did not interfere with the wind and trees conjoined classical. Aimlessly, she roamed this desolate paradise. Wind chimes rang in eerie sweet cacophony. Houses that her friends would likely vandalize observed her. These were her. These, with the chipped paint, rusted metal, and broken glass. She found herself in every one of them. As if we are lost entities. They did not know why they were now deemed abandoned anything's. They simply knew that the once content caretakers became tired of them. We are burdens. Just sacks of uselessness that break the backs of the innocent. We both know that those caretakers deserve more than we can give them. But we gave all we could.

One of the rejected shingle-faced sirs was unlocked. Deirdre could not resist. She was tired. She wanted clarity. Only to be alone. Her sickness tugged at her throat, warning her of the danger this would be to partake of, urging her to simply go home. Darklit streets are no place for kids. But it gives me more of a home than you ever did.

Deirdre was in a box. Outside, came a dead hum. She pushed with weak arms all around her, trying to feel where she lay. It was all a hard cold wood, with barely enough room to turn over. Pushing herself up to the head of this box, Deirdre could faintly make out the strains of “I'll fly away.” What the..... A small crack in the box's side allowed a bit of filtered light inside. Laying back down with heavy gasps, Deidre perceived a roughness on the ceiling. Claw marks. And blood. She was in the body of someone being buried alive. Urging herself to inhale and exhale, Deirdre shut her deep eyes and wildly writhed with all her might.

Bits of something were knifing her face and head and chest. Something glasslike had just been shattered, and the explosion of it sounded like one thousand mouths gnashing together teeth. This gnashing was hurting her entire upper body. Something penetrated her eyelid and scratched the surface of her cornea. Something like pain was urgently felt. Opening the other eye, Deirdre saw her catastrophe. The moon adulterated her privacy, and echoed light on the antique looking porcelain lamp. Deidre must have slammed into it. Why would I......the dream. Salty tears came much too rapidly, blinding her in both eyes. Shards of glass pierced her face and eye and neck and chest. Little streams of blood formed rivers that soaked her. That was not the matter at hand though. This dream had been the worst. And Deirdre was lost as to what it should say to her. Only the fact that such a fate was her greatest fear, struck more little girl terror into her than she ever thought possibly. Opening her eyes again, she remembered where she was. In the middle of some god-forsaken town hours from house.

Deirdre staggered out of the debilitated forgotten. The clouds must have seen her exit, for they immediately cloaked lady moon in black. All that could be distinguished were the silhouettes of claw like trees and houses that seemed more like shapeless blocks than anything of consequence. I just need to find my way out. “Why?” Unsure as to who had pierced the bleakness with audible words, Deirdre could not answer. Not only for the fear, but also for the inability to formulate an answer. “I need peace. This is not peace. This is fear,” she feebly cried out. No answer. Maybe this is peace. Maybe this is all I have wanted to run to. Just to be lost. “If you can't find yourself than how can I expect to find you?” Whatever the beast was sneered. I've no other choice and nothing further to live for. Wavering on her feet, Deirdre began to walk in no direction. Just away from myself.

After an immense amount of seemed time, Deirdre could wander no further. Her glass infested eye was only half way open, but had swollen so much that it was nearly impossible to see out. The glass that held the rest of her body captive felt as if it had driven farther inward, and was creating black crusted dents in her pale skin. She collapsed on the wiry ground, and just stared at her surroundings through the live eye. Her ears tried to prove themselves, and grasped the silenced bushed and damp grass all around in search of danger. Never before had Deirdre thought of this place as dangerous. Unassuming and still. Not dangerous. Now the thoughts pestered her like surely the gnats would be if the night were not so frigid. A spark of blue flashed only three feet in the distance. It was gone....then returned. Baffled, Deirdre outstretched a frail arm towards it. She felt drunk. That mite of blue was the only hope in this eternal blackness. She felt as if only black and white were the colors now recognized. Blue. She needed the tranquil glassy blue of whatever treasure produced light as that. The blue reproduced to two specks simply gazing at her from three feet away. It glided nearer. With it came a deep rasping. Closer. Closer. It inched nearer to her, until at last looking straight down on her small dirty body.

A huge gray wolf. It looked at her with eyes blue but dead. Deirdre deliriously reached up to it's massive face, when suddenly fatigue stole her from the present. Her lifted hand fell with a thud.

Taking Wing

He watched from his crouched position, as the people ran and shouted, scurrying like an embodiment of cockroaches from harmless rain. He would wait, silent, until he saw her. Or at least recognized her scent. The humans were preforming quiet an odd ceremony. It consisted of a lot of dumb people, swaying to cluttered songs, all in black. Their eyes were black and empty, their deeds are just a showing for how big and bright their fake smiles glow. Yes...this was a hoax; a threatre practice. The last person exited the scene into a great barn.


Lion waited. For what seemed like hours he waited, and refused to move. Finally, the massive red sun began to sink, and blend with the rest of the sky for an eerie blood red. Bats flew tonight, instead of birds, and they gathered themselves great troops to scan each portion of the sky like scouts.

At last, he could not stay still any longer. He quietly slinked out of the forest, and towards one of the buildings of the cult. He walked passed the hole that several hours ago had been occupied with stares of blind people. After a pause, he reconsidered and crept to the hole.

Inside was a rectangular box, locked with no key. Tilting his head in curiosity, he slid down the deep hole and climbed atop it. There was an element of familiarity about this box. He felt as if he were a cub once more, and this was his home. The more he stayed, the less he wanted to leave, the less he cared about finding his own cub. This box was far to precious. He curled up, forgetting himself to be in a dangerous area, and closed his large green-amber eyes in peace.



Meanwhile, inside her most least desired cage, Adelaide awoke. She had fallen asleep amongst the chaos and the rain had finally started coming down hard enough that it drowned out the people's cries, lulling her into a visionless sleep. She heard a most unusual sound, almost like breathing. And purring. What on earth.. She wondered aloud. Whatever it was above her must have heard her and stirred. The creature growled lowly and frightened Adelaide into tears. It continued crying and writhing like a banshee. She heard scratching above her. So this is my fate? Finally, my timely end has come from a savage beast trying to claw it's way into my death chamber to eat me live. F this place SICK!

Above her, Lion had caught her scent and was clawing this cage, this chamber of death to retrieve Adelaide. The splinters and chunks of wood were flying into his eyes and mane. He had many stuck in his paws but he ignored all but his goal. A plank flew behind him and he could see his beloved. She looked even more haggard than before, eyes with eternal dark circles, hair matted and atrocious, but he loved her all the more. Finally cutting through the wood, he made a space big enough for her to crawl through. She cried and hugged him and kissed his muzzle and spoke words he did not understand but based on the tone, knew they were words of gratitude. He licked and nuzzled her face. "How are we to get out?" she wondered aloud and that much the Lion understood. He nudged her upon himself and she realized what he was trying to do. She got atop his great back and climbed out with his help. Now how will you get free? she wondered if he could hear her thoughts. Animals tend to know things we don't want them to. Animals and children.
He jumped up the side, attempting to climb up. His wounds still sore on his beaten side, he breathed a great heaving moan in pain. He tried again and again and finally resisted. Adelaide felt so helpless watching him and being unable to do anything to ease his pain or get him out. Little one, run. Please run away, I want you to be safe. His pleas screamed from his eyes and she knew what he wanted. I can't leave you here. You saved me, I owe you this much. Her eyes began welling with tears. You owe me nothing, dear one. I love you. That is enough, now go! He roared a great and regal roar sending Adelaide's hands to her ears. She was sure the Dark Ones had heard. She heard faint stirring from a distance. Go, please go! the Lion's pitiful eyes begged. For you, I will. Tears coursing down her pale, dirt smeared cheeks. I love you, dear Lion. Thank you. She leaned down into the hole, the lion balanced on his back paws, lifted his head to her and she kissed his nose. I love you, little one. came his telepathic reply. He licked her face and she swore that he smiled at her. He growled lowly again, signalling her to go and she did on the very little energy and strength that she had. She ran faster and faster until she could hear his moaning any longer.

hush

the earth seemed to freeze exactly where it was. The stillness deafening but soothing to Deirdre's weary mind and dystopic subconcious. For a moment the earth stopped and she basqued in it's radiance. In these moments she was reminded of the beauty in life. War, poverty, world hunger, economic struggle, man being inhumane to his fellow man all seemed to rest beneath the quiet whisper "It is well with my soul". She did not have to be anything here. she could rest in spite of herself. She could remove the facade that she paraded in day after dreary day. She could be. She didn't have to do anything or try to please anyone. Nature demanded nothing of her and she loved it. She breathed in the atomsphere. The tranquility of the dark water, the inky body of her embodied heaven was alluring. Calling her come like a siren's song. She lied down on the discolored, putrescent wood of the small wharf. Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander. She'd contained and supressed it long enough.

There were very few instances where she felt free. This was one of her safe places to be free. Much like a child on a swing or a bird flying into the open air, she took to this place. It was more so her element than anything else. She did not feel at home anywhere else. She barely felt at home anywhere anyway. She was foreign not only to this town, this state, this country, but to the world. Foreign to the world and all it's strange customs. The dock and the lake seemed to be her own personal dimension. Her dent in the chaotic universe. Somewhere to go when the daggers in men's smiles become too much. When the pain of formality becomes a weighty cancerous growth, expanding over her lungs, debilitating her.

Birds sung their love songs back and forth to each other and the striders still, refraining from creating the faux rain affect they devised. It was cold. The cold scared them away. Or killed them. Depending on how fast they were able to retreat before the winter chill set in.

I need this. she sighed the words. An oasis of peace in a desert of insanity.

home of our least desired cage

Fear gripped Adelaide's heart like a gnarled hand in her ribcage. Tugging, ripping with all it's might to tear away the last thing keeping her going. The sickening sensations of butterflies in her stomach. Wretched little creatures only pointed to her the obvious dread of this conundrum.This fate, like her cage sealed shut, seemed completely and totally hopeless. Like her. Like her life. Like her childhood, her endeavors, any accomplishments. Gone. Devoid of any aspiration. She had no idea of what she should do. God, where are you? Does my family even care that I am gone? Does Deirdre care? And all the lesser knowns, would they raise a prayer for me? No! No one cares! And I am going to die here miserable and alone, just as I predicted. Suffocated in my own personal Hell
WAKE UP! WAKE UP, you imbecile! But this, oh no. this was not a dream. This was her most feared nightmare come true. She was not strong enough to break this crypt. This charnel house. The home of her least desired cage.

She truly had a bird's spirit. From a young age, she could not be contained. Her mother could forget trying to keep her in shoes and socks. The young Adelaide would rip them off as soon as they were on. She was a runner once. She did not race. She had nothing to prove to anyone. She was a sparrow flying free. but sparrows are also breakable. She was fragile. She hated it. But her self reliance would not get her out of this. Jesus, kill me inside this! her soul cried out, for her lips, her voice were both bereft of sound. She felt as if her mouth was bound. Placed inside a cage, she had done this to herself. this was only the physical manifestation of her heart and mind. Adamant to protect them, she locked them away in a box much like the one that housed her now. She'd loved once. Actually twice. She'd loved a person that was supposed to love her back. And he forsook her. She loved again, against her own will. He was supposed to love her. And love her innocently as she did. But he did not. He took her beauty and perverted it and gave it back to her smutty and torn. Her anger and the outpour of her suppressed little girl heart led way to hot tears coursing down her dirty cheeks. She tried to control her breathing so as not to lose air too quickly.
Her life did not pass before her eyes, so she knew she lived still. Just the more unforgiving, God-awful memories that she had buried in the back of her brain resurfacing for a disconsolate and malevolent bloody redemption.

She heard the muffled sounds of a preacher speaking words over a person he never knew. Or was she even a person anymore. She felt the winter wind through the box even still and shivered, but no one noticed, of course. Suddenly she hear a strange sound. Almost like a tap on top of the sarcophagus. then several more. Then women and men shouting and screaming. A drop of water fell on Adelaide's head. Rain. She heaved a deep winded sigh of relief. She could not see the chaos and dystopia of the outside world, but she didn't have to. The people gathered there were all amuck trying to get out of the rain. Adelaide sat in waiting, knowing she couldn't for too long, or her chances of survival were slim.
At any rate, it was unlikely that she would get out of this alive.

Equally Skilled

After so long absent of feeling, Adelaide awoke, breathing heavily thick air. She tried to stretch from her small curled position, but was restrained. She thought for a moment. Then tried again. Hard resounding wood met her knuckles. Her feet sought freedom as well, but were met with the same reply. Hard dense wood. Panic sheathed her white. She gradually felt along her surroundings. There was perhaps seven inches above her, and two on either side of her. She was boxed. Caged, like an animal. Incredulously, she remained calm despite herself. However, ever so faintly she could recognize the distant humming sound similar to the previous one in her mind. Believing herself to be, of course, delusional, she closed her eyes and expected to wake up in another atmosphere or some nonsense. But the humming remained, and her surroundings remained, and that hard wood remained. Rather, now, it was coming from outside of her. Staining to hear more, she forced her ear against the box's presumed top. Hymns.
Hymns!?
With an uninvited abrupt crash, she realized her true state.
She was in the process of her own funeral.
She was being buried alive.


Outside the box was a well acted scene. All the mourners donned in black, though none were sure exactly why that garb was chosen. They did not even know the girl, but this was their job. To find those who had run from accepted society to find their own way to higher knowing. The children who decided that, rather than paying taxes to formality and pseudo smiles, to break down the walls of the surface. Children who see the rotting flesh beneath the mask. The mask not fit but one he learns to wear. These were the sparks that lit society afire. These were the ones who started wars against corrupt government and held signs to all the selfish rich, screaming at them to do something about the children dying only hours away. These were the ones who wrote despite themselves, immortalizing their words to generations to come. And most of these reformist did not even understand what a dangerous position they hold. Their dreams to “change the world” are only met with loneliness and animosity. So they run away, hoping somehow to raise attention to more than themselves....to their cause. And so, time and time again, they are taken captive by these fellows and ladies dressed in black, drugged, and buried. No wonder they feel lonely. No wonder they feel there is none to fight the common cause. We kill them. Oh, not only with physical death, but we kill them with insults in our beauty magazines, and static on our televisions. We kill the fire. Proper burial for those dead inside. And they never seem to mind. It is a mass cleansing. Hitler really knew what was best for the community. For the world. To run properly, we must have rule and order. These misfits should not be tolerated. So one by one, into the coffin you go. Do not fear the black box. Soon you will have all you wanted. All that does not exist here. Shh. Shhh. Sleep.


Adelaide wanted nothing other than sleep. For one moment she wished she never would have fled. It is better to be accepted and complimentary than one never satisfied and alone. Oh, she was never satisfied. No good nor bad could satiated her thirst for reality uncensored. What a barbarous ideal. She LIVED in uncensored reality, and despised it. But perhaps she wondered if there was more to life than what they would like her to believe. Well look where that got her.
Somewhere, in the back hollows of her head, she could remember some good that had come since her departure. It was....a massive animal. An animal, she scoffed at the irony, an animal is the only one good here. An animal. A lion. And Deirdre. Her heart cracked when she thought of her almost-forgotten friend. Her nose burned as salty tears threatened their way out of her eye. Dear Deirdre. With your art you sought recognition of the world's darkness and filth. But thee darkness is so strong....it could captivate you. It could beat you senseless or allure you. You cannot fight it on your own. But look at me, so wretched, I am caught in mine own darkness. Because I resisted it, and thought myself strong, it drove me here. Is this our sad fate? Two kindreds fighting what should be battled against, only to be muzzled? Like the lion. The good lion, who never meant to hurt a soul alive, had forsaken her.
This is surely it then, there's nothing here at all. Nothing at all here that could placate my hunger. We're all murderers and thieves setting traps here for even our brothers. The Godly people are all gone, there's not one honest soul left alive here on the planet.
With that, she came to grips with her fate. No one would come for her, she was a useless addition to a pseudo-cause. And no one even knew what they were fighting.