Devoured

I’m actually starting to get worried, and the worry is mirrored by frustration. I’m frustrated with him, of course, but also with myself. Why do I do these things? Why am I even in this position? Better yet, why can’t I just turn the fucking key and drive away? He’s done nothing to make himself worthy of devouring my mind like this, and I know he’s not coming back here to fix things. Even if I miraculously see him walking back down that road, he’ll have already finished the bottle. MY bottle, that is. He’ll be pathetic, swerving and stumbling because he drank away his balance and pissed out our fight. He’ll sink into my passenger seat and hang his head, not because he feels any guilt or shame, but because his head’s spinning and he can’t keep his eyes open. The second I say a word to him he’ll let out a deep growl that smells like rotting flesh mixed with bile and whip some incomprehensible defense words in my face. And I’ll still drive his sorry ass to my house and hide him in my room so his mother doesn’t know what her ‘sweet young man’ is putting me through every weekend.

He has been gone for an unsettling amount of time though, right? How long have I been sitting in this car, overthinking? Judging by how dark the sky is and how quiet the party has gotten, it must be after 2am by now… My phone’s dead but I could turn the car on and check the clock. Why, though? What fucking difference will it make? It’ll just be another detail for me to use in tomorrow’s argument. There’s no point in crying now, it won’t do me any good. I’ll just save it all. I wonder if he’ll hurt himself on that boulder by the passenger door, it looks pretty sharp from here, kind of like teeth… Whatever, it’s his karma for making me chase after him like this all the time. I don’t want to turn around on this narrow road, I’ll just walk towards the party and maybe I’ll find him passed out on the side of the road somewhere. Hopefully not choking on his own vomit. I can’t hear the voices from the party well enough to know who’s still there looking after him, but I know there’s more than one. I don’t think I can even hear his voice… Is he still there? Did he leave with someone? Ugh okay no point sitting here, time to go get some answers.

It’s strange my car didn’t make its little bleep when I locked the doors, I wonder how much that’ll cost to fix. Great. At least the brake lights lit up, but this forest looks a lot creepier in a red glow than in the white street lights. I can’t believe I’m out here, all by myself, in the middle of the night, to babysit this asshole. I’m done after this, I can’t do this with him anymore. He’s taking over my whole life, I feel like I don’t even exist anymore. I know he wouldn’t be walking down this empty road if I was the one who walked away. He wouldn’t even notice I left. I have to stop putting up with this shit. After tonight. Just keep walking, I must be close to the party by now. Good thing it’s still technically summer, I wouldn’t want him to catch a cold after being out here all night- wait… I can’t hear the party anymore. What the fuck? Did I walk the wrong way? No that’s crazy, I pulled over on my way out, there was no u-turn. And then I walked past my brake lights, I’m heading the right way- right? Ugh let me check.

Wait, where did my car go? I parked it right under that street-light, right beside that boulder, didn’t I? Have I walked so far that my car is out of sight? This road goes for miles, that’s gotta be impossible. I’m hardly even cold yet, I haven’t been outside for that long, what the actual fuck? Did someone steal my car? Did I leave the keys in it? No- they’re right here… I guess they could’ve hot-wired it or whatever… wait no that’s crazy. I would’ve heard. How could I not have heard that? It’s eerily quiet out here, an engine starting would be unmissable. The road would have lit up, the wildlife would’ve made some sort of commotion… Wildlife? I can’t hear a single cricket chirp, or bird call, or rodents scurrying, I haven’t heard a single noise since I closed my car door. I can’t even hear the leaves moving when the wind blows… but I can hear my feet on the pavement. I haven’t gone deaf… It’s like the woods have just gone quiet…

Ugh shut the fuck up, Marcy. I’m giving myself the creeps like a child. The forest didn’t magically mute itself, the party either ended and everyone went home or I’m delusional and I’m walking the wrong way. The latter is seeming more and more likely, considering I can’t find my car I supposedly parked right there. I just have to keep walking in this direction, past this boulder that I swear I was just sitting next to, with its sharp jagged edges that really do look like teeth, especially from up close. No. I know it was here. It’s just gone; someone stole it, or something happened and it vanished. It’s not here, it’s not miles down the road that I’ve only been walking on for a few minutes. It’s gone. How am I supposed to get home now? WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!

I think that scream just made my ear drum burst… It felt like someone sticking a serrated knife in the side of my head. Did I really scream that loud? Or has it just been completely dead silent for so long that my ears forgot how to hear? Maybe they shriveled up, closed in on themselves and my scream was like salt on a slug. I don’t even remember why I screamed… Did anything hear me? I can’t hear anything stirring in the trees, nothing flew away, did I even scream? Something should’ve reacted, right? I can feel eyes on me... Did I just imagine that I screamed? No, my ears are still ringing, I must’ve screamed, right? Why did I scream?

Which way was I going to walk? I can’t remember if I decided. Okay Marcy, get it together. Don’t panic- wait, when did the sun come up? I swear, it was pitch black just MINUTES ago. Did I black out? Did I drink that much? Is that why I’m out here walking around instead of driving? Why am I out here anyway? Think, Marcy… Why are you on this road? What road even is this? Think, think- THE 91! I’m on highway 91, for Scotty’s remembrance party. He did too many drugs last month and overdosed on the side of the 91. We came out here tonight to party as a tribute to him. Who is ‘we’? Who was I with? I hate this feeling. Fuck alcohol, fuck parties, I need to find someone to help me. I need to find Scotty. I need to find the 91.

I feel like the sun has been up for days, but it’s not getting any warmer. It’s probably just still the morning fog, too heavy and wet for the sun beams to warm up. Sun beams? I can’t find the sun at all, much less its beams. It’s the sky that’s getting brighter, only the sky. There’s no sun involved, the entire sky is one pale shade of periwinkle. I haven’t seen a single star, or cloud, or the moon, definitely not the sun. Just an infinite slab of opaque bluish-purple, like it’s been painted on drywall. I wish something else could see this, even just a worm. My eyes must be playing tricks on me because I’ve been walking under these piercing fluorescent street-lights for so long. Fluorescent white, still periwinkle, fluorescent, still, fluorescent, still- this is how people get seizures, right? No, Marcy, you’re not a doctor, idiot. But these lights are giving me a migrai- oh. What the fuck? I swear this street had lights. I’ve been walking under them. I’m not crazy. When did they disappear?

Did I turn off the main road somewhere? There were definitely lights above me at one point, I am completely certain. I must’ve just walked so far they stopped somewhere on the way and I didn’t notice… The road goes so straight for so long, completely flat, I see no lights anywhere, but they were there at some point, right? And the sun is still rising, the animals are still sleeping, I couldn’t have gone that far. Am I looking behind me now? Did I turn around? No- No lights. Right way. Keep walking, Marcy, keep your shit together.

What am I looking for again? Is it a person? Is there someone out here looking for me? Hmm… what was it, I can almost remember- oh! The 91! I’m looking for 91! It’s strange that my voice sounds so foreign to me, have I always sounded like this? It’s so shrill it makes my eyes water, like a sour smell biting through the air. Thank God it doesn’t have an echo, I couldn’t stand to hear it twice. Good thing I don’t need to call out for anything.

I don’t feel the cold anymore, the sun must finally be working. Wherever it is. I guess maybe I’m so deep in the woods that the sky is just going to stay this color forever. That’s probably why there aren’t any birds or bugs, or well, anything living. It’s just too far out, nothing could survive this type of isolation. Except the plants, obviously.The trees keep getting bigger, and the paved road keeps getting thinner, covered in moss and the underbrush. It must be trying to escape. I can hardly see the sky anymore, the trees are trapping everything under their giant limbs and foliage, like a parachute made from chopped up body parts and swords. Heavy and suffocating. Dictating.

They seem to be breathing now, too. The trunks, the strongest branches, all swaying in unison. No, not swaying- Heaving. Up and out, then down and in, sinking deeper with each breath. Threatening me, or maybe offering condolences, pitying me from every angle. It’s fusing together, crowding around me, swallowing me whole. Decomposing me. This is a seance, and I’m a mere candle.

The leaves are no longer individuals, they have no power in this endeavor. They’re stuck together, frozen, only acting as a thin outer layer of skin for this being. I almost feel reverence, proud to be welcomed into this embrace. Me. Nobody else. It feels impossible, even ethereal. Definitely otherworldly. Maybe this is heaven, or the aliens abducted me, or a tornado brought me somewhere I never should’ve gone. Maybe it’s a joke, could Marcy execute a prank this well? Is she out there, watching me? Seeing me assimilate and evolve? If she’s here, could she feel the ground moving, too? The gentle waves of the giant mattress beneath us? Is she being carried through this beside me? With me? No, how could she? How could she feel any of this? It’s only for me.

The moss, the leaves, and my fragile, mortal body never stood a chance. There is no escape. This is something bigger than us, something significant. Necessary. We’re all melding together to unify the beast’s roots, until we finally become whole. No sky, no surroundings, just a solid pillar of divine energy. A cocoon of power, constantly digesting and recycling itself.

I don’t know what I did to deserve this. Maybe Marcy saw something special in me, whoever she is. Maybe she was scared, bullied or brainwashed into giving me up as a sacrifice. A plea, to fix something. Maybe I’m an apology, sang in just the right tune to restore peace. Maybe I’m ransom, absorbed into this environment until an agreement is made and it spits me back out. Maybe I’m nothing. Maybe I’m not even here.

-No, I am here. I’m here. While the branches are wrapping around my body, scraping off my flesh and pulverizing my bones. I can’t see anymore, the dirt has made its way through my pupils and behind my eyeballs. I can feel its tiny granules dancing on the inside of my skull, like a million bee stings. I can’t lift my arms, or my legs. All of my seams have been sewn together by tiny roots and stringy fibers. My lungs have been dissolved and replaced with thick, thorny vines, crawling up my esophagus. They find their way through every crevice of my being, connecting me to the outside. When the trees breathe, I get to breathe.

I can’t remember my name, I can’t fathom what my body looked like or where I came from. I can’t picture what grew me, what I grew out of, or what I grew into. I don’t know why or how I ended up here, but I know I don’t belong. I was an accident, a mistake. I can feel hate seething up through the ground, into my abandoned body as well as this one. I’m inside both now. I’m trapped in these tangles, suffering. I was not incorporated out of love or light, but purely out of spite. I’ll spend my eternity being used as fertilizer for this evil being.

I wish I could go back. I’m not sure where, but anything other than this would suffice. I keep thinking 91 has relevance, but I can’t figure out why. Maybe that’s my name, maybe it’s where I’m from, or what I’ve turned into. I know nobody is looking for me. I know this is my own fault. I’m not sure how, or why, but I allowed this to happen. I allowed myself to be taken and used. Devoured.