by Sam, Grade 12
Lightning tore into the inky sky. The clouds’ glittering hues resembled flowing silver that spun while emanating ripples. A young woman named Sarah opened the wooden door to the house; her skin was almost transparent in the light, and green and blue veins surrounded her neck like candy ropes. The green of her irises appeared dazzling and soft all at once, almost like the fresh spring blooms—intense sparkles of the kind of emerald that only emerges as warmer months approach. A Hieronymus Bosch painting surrounded the corridor, adorning the walls with pure white hues.
As she sauntered through the hallway, a silver moonlight beam shifted in the direction of the golden framing, entering pristine silence and igniting every corner. Her feet were swept into the enclosure, distorting the painting into a liquefied reflection. She had been transported. But where? The sand is the most mellow shade of gold, almost primordial and casual, the scene’s unassuming centerpiece. The detritus floats upon the beach like miniature rescue ships. The seaweed is the botany of the saline waters, as vibrantly verdant as any midsummer flora. Gently undulating dunes whisper sweetly into the blowing breeze.
She entered the realm laying idle on dunes, her head submerged in the grains of sand which seeped into her eye sockets and skin crevices. Her mouth was dry and calloused, and each inhalation felt heavier and heavier. Where was she? She lifted her body from the ground, and the sun emerged on the horizon, radiant petals extending across the deep blue. The sun radiated against the sand and onto her skin, with each atom settling on her hands. Then suddenly, she felt searing pain; her skin began falling off her face leaving a bare fleshy interior with blood dripping across her neck. This pain was immeasurable, manifesting as a pulsating heart with intermittent periods of misery.
Her once translucent, symmetrical face and green eyes transformed into the likes of a parasitic demon. Her brain became pierced by unending anguish. She can’t move, can’t think, and can’t do anything except surrender. A searing spike of acute pain takes control of her consciousness, sending her into mindless oblivion. Her knees dislocated, ripping from one another like paper, and her torso became incapacitated. Slowly and gradually, a small boy in a pearly white suit with gray eyes marched towards her, declaring with effortless ease, “Welcome to the lush of humanity, the luminous shores of sorrow, why this is the garden of earthly delights!”
Slowly, several corpses emerged, floundering in the sands, walking like banshees. Incapacitated hordes besieged the beach. The smell of sweet salt transformed into a stringent odor of fetid wounds and fresh corpses. Her skin grew coarser, and her verdant eyes that once sparkled throughout her life became opaque. The blood streamed in rhythm with her pulses, not in a continual torrent. It began to run through her fingers as they encircled the torn skin, thick and forceful. The viscous fluid moved over to her hand, frigid and profuse. After a little while, her fast-fading flesh was still profusely bleeding, but the pulses were weaker and quieter.
Sara gathered up the flesh that had detached from her face and wore it like a facemask as she sprinted into the protection of coconut palms, crimson blood surging between her feet. Her pulse tranced across her chest. She reached out to feel her chest and touched a veiny exterior with patches of skin.
She was accompanied by a baby fox when she reached the palm trees. Its eyes are innocent and rustic brown; with every step, you see a drop of blood escaping his paw. With their eyes flaming and tales flowing, it light soles upon the dirt pathway, always at home in the starlit darkness. The fox arrives wearing a tuxedo made of hearth-spun browns. Sarah felt terrible for it; his wounds matched hers, so she tore her white blouse adorned with blood and tied it around his paw. It whinged and raved, nearly pounced but relaxed as he noticed the pain of his paw deteriorating. She lay alarmingly still resting her back on the tree.
Flashes of memories occupied her mind of her daughter, her husband, and her mother. She imagined them lying in pristine silence, blood gushing out of their stomachs and eyes cold and robotic. Tears trickled down her now bare eye sockets. A grin escaped her gaping mouth, and she almost giggled. This was momentary insanity, right? I mean, she had entered eternal damnation. It had taken over the reins of her pure blue soul. Jesus said all sinners must be saved, and all a human is is but a sinner. All creatures sin; what had she done to deserve this? Sweat trickled around her fingers and neck, and her eyes became heavier and heavier. As she lost consciousness, her disheveled and almost barren body was again transported to a Lush garden.
Earth manifests blankets of green lotus rising toward the sun, displaying vibrance and carnivorous thorns. The garden is vibrant and pleasing to the eye if the mind and existential soul remain in balance. To the corrupted soul, nature overwhelms and darkens their peripheral view. To Sarah, the garden was gray and accompanied by squawking ravens with calls that echoed through the landscape as if a stadium. Mildew adorned each plant, and silent screams would be heard in the distance. No flowers appear to be able to mask the putrid animal or beast stench that hangs in the motionless air. The trees seem to encircle the area, suffocating the light and allowing the fog to swirl like a breath.
Hidden creatures move branches, piercing shadows encapsulate the trail. The wood was coated with poisonous particles that gleamed like hag’s powder. Trolls rampaged the cigarette smoke, salivating their prey and smearing the blood over their hulking features. In the shadowy nooks, scorpions clung to their snare strings. Their webs glistened like chrome filigree titanium. Their eyes blazing with desire, they intended to guzzle blood remains and devour the swelling bodies. Toadstools in oxblood red blanketed the soil. As she ventured through the forest, she began to chew her tongue so fiercely that her mouth began to taste metallic.
Snakes hissed and slithered, with vibrations that almost sounded human: “ssssazzmodeusss,” “ssBeelzzzebub,” “ssSathanasss.” Past the trees, a castle revealed itself; it was embellished with gold and shattered bones. At the gate, in large blood-red letters, it read: “Lasciate ogne Speranza, voi ch’intrate.” Meaning “abandon all hope ye who enter here.” She broke the lock with her bare, bloodied hands and continued sprinting.
Elements Magazine 