MUSHROOM WALKER
Don't walk on me! Don't walk on me!
These words were whispered
through a confused, drug altered mind. Taunting words,
echoing wildly in the void once the cradle of
a functional organ she called her brain.
A brain no longer protected by the presence of the skull.
Now vulnerable to the elements that create mental
destruction. Invaded by a villain that didn't consider bone
to be a threat against it's preference for human
flesh. Grey matter now exposed to a realm of reinvented
reality. She had embarked on a mental journey taken
accidentally into a miniature, private world that demanded
it's inhabitants destruction. Outwardly her body reacted to
the demands executed by that bacterial intruder within.
A hungry demon that has existed eternally in the bottomless
pit of misery, had found a home in her sacrificed soul.
She ran barefoot, unaware of the freezing temperatures that
created a carpet of crisp straw out of the dew soaked grass.
Natures rug protected the weary travellers's feet.
The April sun stretched it's many arms of pastel
beams downward; gently biding farewell to it's
sleepy benefactors. Narrow bands of thin clouds
reaching down, created the appearance of a final,
friendly wave after a day well done.
Little was anyone under this serene portrait of
nature concerned, or even aware, of this one frantic,
stray woman heading for destruction just behind their
coveted property lines.
Evening had arrived; as has been it's habit since the
advent of creation. Perhaps the last hours of her breath were
to be used up this night? That mystery would only be unfolded
with the passing of time. The new dawn might well find one
less human being to wake.
This venture was a bolt for sanity and hope, overshadowed by
the laughter of the demon who already reasoned himself the
victor. A race with no finish line other then passing into
personal ruin.
She sensed the terrible struggle raging internally, yet was
helpless to control its emotion.
She retained enough awarness to realize the acute danger she
was in, although she was trapped by her own paralyzed senses.
She was aware life wasn't in her power to control any
longer. Her glazed eyes were alert for
danger. Somehow, she had tuned into a domain were discernment
was based on an instinct not of this sphere. She darted
forward,searching with the cunning of an animal for the
predator that she felt stalked her.
Hearing only the unconscious instructions
that formed the pattern for her unseen, waiting shroud.
This flight for her life began as just another day of trying
to maintain order. A continual battle in a situation gone
haywire. She played a game of tug-a-war with people that
were not capable of comprehending anything other then their
own self indulgence. It had been just another afternoon where
survival was making sure outside elements were kept at bay.
She exsited in an environment were trouble was only a breath
away. A breath that smelled like whisky, rye or beer. Where
so called friends would take advantage of her home at a drop
of a hat. A joint lease meant originally to secure fair
division of rental obligation, had made it impossible to
argue against such unwelcome company. Compelled to continue a
relationship with a boyfriend who gave new meaning to the
word " boy." She had learned the hard way that Devils really
do linger around every darkened corner we try to avoid or
choose to blind ourself too.
Always there was the hope that one day things would take a
turn for the better and become so called," normal." There
seemed to be no help, no one to reach out to. Oh yes! There
was no shortage of comments from those who had verbal input
but never a practical solution. Perhaps her worst barrier was
grounded in fear of being alone. Cemented by unrealistic
hopes that time would hand back some form of manageable
sanity. Her vision had been clouded by an unwillingness to
walk away from an alcohol addiction thought
under control. The only feasible escape route that allowed
all this organized chaos to be bearable.
A bullhorn was issuing orders to halt." Turn back!," someone
seemed to be bellowing orders out at her. The truth behind
this command was it had been self induced by a body that
feared for it's very existence.
The voice appeared to echo from behind the other side of
the houses she was trying to get away from.
A warning cry projected mentally outward to create a
reality for her alone to endure,
or perhaps meant as a last chance of saving grace.
"Why are they after me", she wondered. That paranoia
thought closely followed by, "Why aren't they after me".
Sanity once again tried to push it's head upward,
awakening the realization that she was in dire need of help.
That little bit of saving consciousness was soon eaten
up by a wave of desire to drop deep into the abyss of the
earth at any cost.
Bewilderment clouded the perception of a once moderately
intelligent mind now twisted and frightened.
The direct results of an organic " Mushroom Monster"
out of control. She was driven by the need to flee, to
hide from the stalker that refused to relinquish his claim on
her. She knew there was no place on this earth that could
provide a sanctuary secure enough to denounce the enemy
deeply trapped within her. No place but perhaps one.
Once again that faraway phantom voice warning her, begging
her not to trample over it." Don't walk on me. Don't walk on
me, " over and over, repeating itself in a ghostly hush.
Another febble attempt of her conquered brain to make her
believe a fictitious reality. The monster screamed for
her full attention through unknown channels, penetrating
upwardly in that newly discovered internal, insane universe.
Her nostrils flared as she picked up the scent of nearby
water. Instinctive memory supplied the information needed to
propel the victim on to its murky source. An avenue of escape
was slowly formulating in her troubled mind. The idea of
being forever concealed in a silent, tranquil world became
enchanting to her burning soul. Perhaps there waited a hidden
world able to wash away the grime produced by the fungus of
her illusion? Buried alive, an effort that might result in
the permanent condition the soul cried out for, that of the
final release from life's tribulation's and undesired pain.
No longer was she driven by the reason of logic. Unnoticed
where the once treasured delights of nature's handiwork. Only
the need to somehow rip apart from the skin that caged the
beast remained alive in her. The demon who roared from
within her conquered body demanded everything.
It craved liberation from at the price of her death.
Could anyone who has never been hurled into a state of utter
chaos, their mind spinning out of control with no safety
valve to pull, claim to understand the living hell this
could be?" Oh, but this would never happen to me," some might
venture to confidentially boast, all too secure in their
limited attempts to imitate righteousness.
Yet do we really know the forces that drive
us on? Are we so naive that we would risk the gamble that a
monster of greed or pride makes you any better then those
who fight the monsters modern society chooses too recognize?
Monsters come in more subtle disguises for those who refuse
to admit their true nature. What you don't know can hurt you.
Don't let your monster or some deluded fool tell you any
differently.
She came to the edge of the dam. Once in this very place she
had played harmless childhood games. She had
seen the original face of this now reconstructed land twenty
five years earlier. In a time before the land had been raped
by advancement; before mankind had inflicted deadly wounds to
it's delicate surface. She had played on the land in
it's innoccence. But like the landscape, she too had
suffered negative change.
Beneath her laid a reservoir of confined water. Freedom
stolen from a once flowing brook, now condemned to serve a
death sentence for crimes it had not committed. Water
manually trapped, turned into a polluted sese pool unfit for
man or beast. Yet perhaps symbolically suited for the purpose
of sharing a mutual death. A death the water already claimed.
Slowly; she crept down the embankment.
Her hands reached out to steady her wobbly descend.
Blindly, she ignored the beaten, smoother pathway that would
have led her safely to the bottom of the hill. She didn't
take the harder way on purpose; she simply went the route
that laid directly in front of her. A path that took her
over jagged boulders made slippery by the frozen remnants of
fading winter's trademark.
If only she had taken the time to look back at the trail
she had created in her flight. Her tiny footprints, laid
indented in the frosted field. A temporary remainder to the
world of her having passed that way. Footprints that wrote
her unintended farewell note, as they conveyed a tale of
panic by their very existence. Certainly she would have
noticed the scent of sadness left hanging in the motionless
air if she had only made the effort to turn her head around.
Perhaps she was no longer capable of feeling the tears of
nature as they clung onto her running feet. Tiny water
droplets picked up as she hurried by. Hitchhiker's that
sobbed in their inability to touch her unhappy heart. If only
she could see past the hurt caused by the monster raging within.
Would she hear the sounds of hope whispering sweetly in the
cool breeze as it wrapped itself generously around her?
Would she realize there was a powerful force that kept both
herself, and nature alive? Could a link be established with
her mind that would allow her to sense they were part of each
other's very fibres? Each earthly species made up of the
same elements reused, and shared, among every living thing
that ever was, and ever will be. She was not alone; only
hopelessly lonely. Never fully believing in a love she had
heard about, but had never personally experienced.
The warm blood flowing through her veins separated her from
peace. A separation she could no longer handle. Those
precious gift's of reason and thought, granted by God to each
human life, had turned into her enemy.
She had a licence of free choice, of total mobility, a gift
given to all humans. Set free to roam at her own free will,
to develop her own capabilities and character. So unlike the
surrounding vegetation and animals that had been created with
build in blueprints and given distinctive functions to
perform. She hadn't learned how to use that licence of
freedom endowed to her at birth. She didn't care anymore
either. All she wanted was to escape the pain she carried
inside her empty
shell.
The price of this unasked for freedom was to much for her to
handle. She didn't understand. No one had taken the time to
teach her what love truly meant.
We are not always wise to the tricks played on us by the
monsters who would blind us to our salvation. Now fate had
played out it's hand, making it to late to reach this
troubled lost soul. The beast had control of her and wasn't
about to let go of the reins. He rode on her inner weakness
of low self esteem, unbearable loneliness and heart ache.
In an accidental, organic drug, induced overdose, slipped
into her drink as a joke, she found an unsolicited assassin
willing to complete the job she hadn't found the courage to
do herself. He had entered her mind and stolen her only
weapon of defence; that of hope.
Two tired, small feet entered the chilly black water. Voices
sang out to her in that hushed, magical sound associated with
mythological legends. Alluring songs that offered peace to
her tired soul as they whispered the lullaby of love she
yearned to hear.
Slowly she slid her body into that welcomed,
watery grave. Instantly becoming numb as the cold
water closed off her nostrils to the God given breath of
life. Yet her afflicted mind remained warmed by the
realization that serenity was at hand.
She slowly allowed herself to sink into the womb of earth.
Glad to surrender forever her choice of freedom.
A lost seed, begotten unto death by a life that aborted her
tired soul.
Never to be walked on again.
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