Ephemeral
Something red was
moving outside my cold cage. Something lower than myself. A familiar flash
of thick red fabric, followed by the ripping of a seam. I could not see it of course, but I knew it. It
was the exact way fish know which direction to swim. Exactly how butterflies
knew how to fly. It was my purpose, and possibly my sole purpose. I strained my
neck to see further to see this familiar redness better.
The red never stopped
to turn around, taking no heed to my very existence. It never stopped to
observe anything left behind. No energy or time left to tilt its head. Maybe it
was because the red knew nothing would be there, behind. Everything left behind
would be merely the past- blank history.
There would be nothing but black and grey. Yet the shadowed face in the single highest turret was watching. The
tower built on nothing but pure faith. The belief that it existed.
A swish followed by gusty wind. And then-
nothing. Perhaps, it would have been only a mirage.
- - - -
It was not the
first time, second, neither third this had happened. In a way, it became
ritual. I shut my eyes and waited for the soft pounding echoing through my
confinement to begin. Driving me to wits end. The 7”x5” granite tiles bulged
with screeching silence and the slightest sense of lunacy. Pretense of insanity, decease of humanity. The pounding on such
cold and cruel walls were nothing. And I
was something. A someone even puzzling to myself. I was the girl crowded in
white satin. Dressed in red when the bloody sun hung along the unclear horizon;
where time seemed to stop; when the curving of the world edged. I am something,
and the pounding noises are nothing.
I raise my arms
and begin to dance to the irresistible laconic rhythm of the pounding, feeling
the ruffles of the dress scrape roughly against my ankles. Spinning faster, the
ribbons at the very bottom fly out in all the directions. They were free to
twirl-left to right, up or down. Their fate determined. Set out to compel.
The walls have now
molded into friendlier facades. They were rich, with such warm and spirited colors.
The perfect shades of crimson dotted along the windowpanes, smeared over the
glass so the light which entranced the room would be naught but a perfect shade
of red. Everything was faultless yet something seemed dreadfully wrong. I gasped
and let go of my skirts and rushed to my drawers. The tint of red maple wood caught my
attention for a brief second. Pulling the handle with such force, it left
stinging marks echoing in my now coarse hands.
The silvery
moonlight seemed to shape up the mirror. The soft metallic colors being cast in
a circle mould. Losing track of time, whenever to gaze into such false
reflections. I hold the silver up to a respectable length and stare deep into
my pupils. The calm colors, cool and light offer reprieve that could never be
felt in my lifetime unaltered. The evermore reddening sun was being lifted by a
chariot made of the same thing as my mirror, the very same purpose.
The moonlight from
the sky suddenly seemed spread out, blending with the very mirrorhandle I held.
The glass cracked
and attempted to work its way into a spiderwebbed pattern, not sparing a single
inch of mirror. The pieces fell into my lap and glistened with the red light
coming through the windowpanes. I knew what I had to do then, I knew what I had
to do with the remaining of my life. I saw my uncertain reflection for the
first time which would appear clear. I let go of my perfect brown curls
beginning to soften, my porcelain skin tinted pure white waiting to crack, I
let go of my piercing eyesight waiting to witness excitement. I let go of
everything I was worth and peered into the broken mirror pieces in my lap once
more. My hair became a color of grey, and my face a resemblance of crumpled
leather. Nonetheless the colors in my eyes remained bright as ever- unwavering and
determined as ever.
My reflection seen
uncertainly through the jagged pieces lying on my lap froze upon the path I
chose. Catching the idea that I was free to be the person I never was. To be
the person I wished to be. The pounding noises stopped as abruptly as they
began. They no longer controlled my ambitions. Silver against gold and in a
situation as obvious as mine.
Something red was
moving outside, again. It was familiar, but the girl in the tower could not
quite place where it had been observed before. It never stopped to see if she
was being followed. The direction to travel unraveled within every step she
took, every step she chose to take.
- - - -
A single graven
face watched from the highest turret of the tower. Faint recognition flickered
within her eyes. Pretense of insanity,
delusion of humanity. Perhaps, it was only a mirage.
asdfghjkl;' idk idc but stop being so EMS
rhetorical much?
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