Chapter 1
If you dreamed in the right light, what do you think you’d see? Colors as dark as night or ones that are light and free?
I see the green of the leaves and the bright white of the sun. Lying here on the ground, looking into the sky. If I turned over, I’d see darkness, the colors as dark as night.
The strength that flows through you, is it crimson like the blood in your veins or crisp like the air in your lungs?
I’d imagine my strength runs red. Red like a river of blood, what massacre took place to fill such a void? And maybe the river would be crisp. Maybe it would make your skin tingle until it numbs. And once your skin is numb, maybe you can feel what’s inside.
And then I open my eyes, and I am no longer a girl lying on the ground in a forest with a red river of blood running rapid. My body has inverted, and the blood has returned to my veins. The numbness no longer resides in my skin. It has moved to my heart.
Water drops from the sky, brewing in my waterline. They land on the bed and on the street. I am there, an umbrella in my hand. The overhead light, a street lamp on my head. The umbrella casts a shadow, and I am wearing a gown of black.
Down the street, a man follows me. Tall, dark, and not so handsome. A man, a creature, a lamp in the corner of my room. Thin and bony or slim and metal. He picks up his speed. I cannot replicate. I continue my nonchalant walk under the veil of grief.
The creature comes behind me, breathing over my shoulder. Is this thing death, and has it awaited my arrival? My body is mine again. I can do as I please. So I turn to face the monster. Except it is gone, and my eyes are open.
With a moment of reality, I feed this haggard body. I shove food down its throat and pour water over its skin. The water comes down stronger until it is all around me. I am in a lake, no, the ocean. The salt burns my eyes. They are red and blurred, and I cannot see through them. I navigate through the eye protruding from my forehead. With it, I see the surface above. I swim to it, my feet peddling against the water.
The surface is a facade. The calmness is nonexistent, and the ocean is never-ending. Waves crash over me. They send me under the water. I rush up to the top, gasping for air. The air meets my lungs. I choke. I cannot breathe. I sink under the water. My body doesn’t move. It floats to the bottom. My lungs gasp for air. Now, there really is none.
A nibble on my foot and my toe is gone. I didn’t need it anyway. The blood runs from my body, mixing with the water. It grows and grows, and I think maybe this is the way I created the river of blood as well—the blood morphs, changing shape until it is something recognizable.
The tall, dark, and not-so-handsome man grows from the iron substance. His form is shaped, and his new hand grabs my ankle. The action squeezes more blood from my wound, but I cannot feel a thing. The blood adds to his arm, making it stronger.
I don’t fight it. The water rushes past me as I descend further down. The bottom of the ocean comes into view. My ears begin to ring. The creature does not slow as we approach. I don’t panic. He crashes into the sand. It billows around us like a cloud. He pulls us through the ground. I close my eyes as the earth presses against me. I feel the pressure all around me.
The sand is suffocating me like a wooden box—a coffin. The grain of the sand was plush and soft, and velvet—red velvet cushions like red velvet cake. Pus runs from my skin like cream cheese frosting. I wipe it up with my finger and plop it into my mouth: soft, creamy, and light.
The lid of the coffin opens. Faces look down on me: Mother, Father, Creature. My parents leave, and only the creature stays. His dark face, devoid of any features, looks down on me. I smile up at the tall dark, and not so-handsome-man.
He smiles back.
