Dustford

One of the most memorable times of my life was during my attendance at a school called Dustford. It taught me quite well during the rugged times of the 20th century. The buildings around the area were struck with a hideous decay that gave people an uneasy feeling of gloom and despair. Darkness and cold air wrapped around every corner, yet I did not care much for the sorrow in the scenery. I excelled in my academics and had a hopeful future ahead of me. In naive adolescence, I intended to escape from the dread of the town and start a life of my own.

It was my sophomore year that another classmate caught my eye. Her name was Marie Lindenberg, and she sat in front of me during one of my daily classes. She first meant little to me when I first caught sight of her. The composure she held was timid and I had no intention of remembering her name. However, her angelic appearance began to draw me toward her like a light flickering in the darkness. Marie- O Marie! It was inhumane how she made me fall so deeply in love with every part of her existence.

In every quaking moment I dreamt of her. The way her eyelids slid back and forth with such divinity and prestige that she could be mistaken for an angel. A mystifying blue was entrapped within her pupils and it swirled with the vitality of youth. There was a fierce wildness to her gaze that mesmerized me in every way; her stare had the courage that I always lacked. Very few times has she met eyes with me, yet I hold each encounter deep within my heart. I can still recall the first time she caught me admiring her and looked at me with curiosity, her light shining into the void of my very soul. I drank up the heavenly atmosphere with bliss until she tore her gaze from mine, banishing me back to reality.

Her voice was unlike any other melody I’ve ever heard. It was gentle and had soft-spoken with a low tone that enchanted my presence while I walked down the school corridors. Throughout the mass of students that roamed the hallways in between intervals, I always could hear her words trace the air. She lavished each syllable with sophistication whenever she had a chance to. Her breath flushed from her body within each graceful exhale.

Like a moonlit goddess, she bore a captivating look to her face at all times. Her skin was flawless and haunted my mind whenever I spotted her. She would toss her auburn hair over her shoulder, revealing a pale neck that was bathed in purity. Every feature was perfectly aligned as if it were a supernatural trait that only she inherited. Her pores were unmarked and left me to question how she had no scars on any of her body. Some inhumane power had to have caused her to hold no imperfections.

But these traits, though incredibly charming, were not the main attributes that attracted me towards her. The piece de resistance was beyond the comprehension of the human eye due to it being hidden within the layers of her soft skin. Her enchantment was embedded in her adipose tissue, encased between the fleshy skeletal muscles. Truly, this was her best characteristic- it was hidden from plain sight and tucked away from the eyes of us sinners. It was the bones that she held within her casing. Her sternum, her mandible... even her fibula left me in trembling wonder. I obsessed over the white spectrum of her delicate pieces for hours and hours at times. Every time she moved her hand in trivial writing, I imagined the way her bones- especially the phalanges- rubbed against her supple joints to grasp the pencil. I was plagued with passionate thoughts of touching them, feeling every arch and crevice that they possessed.

My musings throughout the school days were always of her bones. They occupied me with their mysterious charm since I could only have mere ideas of what they looked like. I would sit in the musty classroom with curiosity, lamenting over how pleasant her bones could be. My imagination had convinced me that I couldn’t even begin to think of the incredible beauty that hid beneath her flesh. At night, visions of peeling away her skin would creep into my mind and seduce me. The dreams would consist of carving deep within her thigh, pulling away from the flabby meat until I would come across her femur. Her bones would, surprisingly so, hold a crimson-red tint to them that almost resembled the color of blood. I would pull them from their ligaments and then awaken with exhilaration itching down my throat.

Despite my constant thoughts of her, she seemed to rarely notice my existence. I always tried to imagine ways of speaking my devotion and love to her, yet always retreated on those ideas. She was in another state of the universe that I could never join. Yes, she was always above me, like a towering goddess that can silence every heartbeat. To try and confess my undying love to her would be like a man trying to offer dirt to God. She would never consider accepting a mere mortal like me and I would be cast away like all of the others who have tried the same endeavor.

To win her affection, I praised her in the secrecy of a shed near my home. The walls were splintered with decay that trickled onto the cement floor. Although dusty, this shed held all of the trinkets I have gathered in her name. Pencil toppings, wrappers, and faded slips of paper were carefully lined against the rickety shelves. I worshipped every object that lingered with her heavenly essence and spoke of her colors. Whilst in my hysteric fits of prayer, I would wish for her to respond to my praises and enlighten me within the rotten walls of the shed. Her gracious soul is aligned with the solar system, so surely she could have heard the messages I have faithfully poured out to her. I clasped my hands together in my feverish love as I murmured her name.

But, of course, not all of my worship was towards her being. It was mainly of her bones. I would begin thinking of her with such cherished ideals before becoming engrossed with her internal structure. I would imagine her lungs pressing against her ribcage as she would softly inhale. In fact, I once counted the number of times she breathed in the class we shared together. My eyes hung low as I examined the movements of her body. She would drop her shoulders ever so slightly to come to a gradual exhale, and I would record it every time. 585 breaths. 585 times her organs pushed her ribs forward while I was in the same room as her.

I could barely handle the excitement that would come with these thoughts. They shook my very being and I soon came to the conclusion that these thoughts resonated for a reason. Yes, it was fate that I was so absorbed by her bones. They were the bones of a goddess that could scrape together to create beautiful melodies. Not a soul could fathom how entrancing the bone marrow would feel between bare fingertips. My fate was sealed- it had to be- that I was destined to uncover the divine presence of her bones. Why else would I think of them so heavily?

Marie fell terribly ill during the spring. Her blurry vision was accompanied by ravaging headaches that would visit at random. It was, presumed by doctors, a type of cancer that crept into her brain. Medical advances were no use to attend to the cancerous activity and, as all patients with these symptoms experience, she began to wither away. Her skin was painted with ghastly tones and her wrists thinned significantly. The unhealthy loss of weight caused one to see hints of the bones underneath her skin. These outlines of the skeletal system further entranced me. I then came to the conclusion that her body may deteriorate into nothing, but her bones are what truly remains as distinct proof of her existence. Truly- truly, this is what was the source of her power. Her body was merely a mirage of skin and flesh plastered together. The divinity is beneath all of the excess waste! Her external appearances were never meant to be fantasized about- it was only the bones.

As she weakened, my obsessions of her outer shell diminished. Instead of the fierce yet majestic gaze that she once had, her eyes were littered with veins and subliminal misery. The flawless skin that previously wrapped around her with strength was now translucent and had veiny undertones snaking underneath. Her face was sunken and looked as deathly as ever. Yet her bones, in their eternal marvel, possessed the charm and strength that they always had. This confirmed my devout beliefs towards her innards. Facial beauty decays easily, I convinced myself, but her bone fragments will never wilt. Her skeleton is the secret to her divinity and supernatural.

I began to see her malnourished figure less until she disappeared from the classroom altogether. Everyone accepted her grim fate when her status was announced by a close friend of hers. Marie is at a hospital, the girl said, and will be staying there until her final days. The tragedy in this girl’s eyes almost excited me; I realized her devotion to Marie. She bore tears that ran down her dry cheeks and messily dropped onto the floor. I yearned to comfort her- tell her that Marie was not dying, but simply shedding her flesh to reveal her true grace. But I knew that this girl did not know as much as I did. She wouldn’t understand my words of faith. So, as any polite person would do, I held my mouth shut and let her continue her mourning.

My mind was tortured with the withdrawal of her presence. The fits of devotion grew broader and I had more exotic visions of her structure. In one of my hysteric episodes, I recall seeing her entire skeleton in my ruinous shed. I saw her crimson vertebrae unfolding itself in front of my eyes, twisting and scraping with ecstasy. It slid erratically across the floorboards and slithered like a centipede. Blood-red teeth would scatter themselves across the shed flood before whispering foreign secrets to me. Within the spongy innards of the bones, blood was leaking out from where the bone marrow should have been. Cockroaches would feast on the substance and engorge themselves with the liquor, falling into a murderous stupor as they tore off the limbs of their colleagues.

The dreams I experienced were much more abstract than before- there was one in particular that left an impression on my mind. In it, there was a figure lying on a bed that had a white cloth draped over it in an elegant fashion. One could easily tell that a human was underneath the blanket, yet its identity remained unknown. Moonlight bathed the scenery and shadows lurked around me with murderous intent. A medical instrument was gripped within my hand and I stuck it into the figure. I do not know why I did this, but it felt like the correct thing to do. The choked gasp of a woman passed my ears as a red liquid stained the cloth, presumably blood. The figure began struggling- although lethargically- as I cut away part of the cloth to reveal the person’s abdomen. The stomach was thin and decorated with fresh cuts and wounds that I created. My hands quivered as I began extracting meaty tissue and digging deeper into the flesh for something- something I was desperate to find. I can recall seeing blood spurt up from the organs and spray into the nightly air as I searched. But, after this point, I cannot remember any details of what occurred next. It is all a dark haze that I have tried to conjure but to no avail.

These- undoubtedly- were sights and dreams sent from Marie herself. What else would they be? After years of prayer and worship, she had finally answered my call with messages of her own. A human disease was ravaging through her body, so it was obvious why she would speak to a devout follower at such a time of need. I was struck with wonder at what she was conveying through these elaborate sights.

I would hear nothing but the scraping of bones and the incoherent whispers of Marie during the night. They were seemingly coming from thin air and shook my very core. She was undeniably gripping my mind with insanity! A few days after the strange dream, I pulled away one of the loose floorboards of the shed and saw what seemed to be a rib cage peeking out from the soil underneath. It was dirtied and broken into small pieces that one could easily fit together like a jigsaw puzzle. It was an odd thing to see, but I assumed it was simply another vision of mine; they were becoming a normal occurrence in my life, after all. But I slowly discovered that small bits of bones were littered throughout my house, just out of the sight of my parents. Part of a tibia bone hid under the frame of my bed, alongside some unidentifiable fragments. A broken femur was discovered sitting in a rickety box that I stored most of my belongings in. Most of them were fractured and snapped apart with none being larger than the size of a hand.

I would feel these white fragments with curiosity and notice the prestige texture that they embodied. They seemed like a piece of reality, but I knew that they were simply visions from my sick mind. They were all mere illusions! The truth was that her bones were haunting me- of course they were! My entire world was being warped because of them! Her real bones still rested in that miserable hospital- still encased within her withering body. But even so, they lived on through their divinity and supernatural abilities. The godly characteristics of her frame were seeping into my daily doings- they were demanding to be acknowledged.

Undeniably, the bones around my home were sacred visions that she was giving me- these were all her way of contacting me from that ghastly body of hers! Gods have sent vague messages to their followers before, so why wouldn’t Marie send me messages of her own? Soon enough, I began to believe that I would be cured of these sights if I had her bones in my possession. Yes, surely my hallucinations would fade and my life would change for the better! I could barely fathom the wonders that they held. The mystery of the goddess allured me in every waking moment as I looked forward to the view of her cartilage.

Without a word to my parents, I donned dark clothing and left my home before the sun had risen. A flimsy school bag was with me for purposes that were best left unspoken of. I boarded the morning train with a sense of duty and began a nervous trip to the hospital. As bleak scenery passed over the dirty windows of the train, I fiddled with the zipper of my bag. Tucked inside were a scalpel and other medical instruments that I had collected in advance. All I could do was toy around with the bag’s clasp locker as an eternity of waiting commenced. As the train dragged itself along, small houses grew into larger buildings that would strike awe in any young child. But I was not there to admire the architecture, so I paid little attention to them. I thought of Marie’s past beauty and her flesh. My mind drifted with a curiosity of how long it would take to tear the meat from her joints. It was an experience that I awaited with great anticipation. One could even describe my anxious excitement like that of a child that was being taken to a candy store. The mere thought of caressing her bones sent a wave of arousal over me.

A cold air clung onto the back of my neck as the train slowly halted. This was it. I could feel the stares of passing strangers as I exited the passenger car and walked along a cracked pathway. Not much time passed before I was met with the doors to the hospital. the building was made of brown-colored bricks that would fill any soul with dread. The door was, oddly enough, heavy and took significant effort to push open.

I found myself tracing the desolate hallways as I passed each room with wary eyes. Catholic imagery decorated the area and followed my steps. It was common to see such religious symbols in a sanctuary of life and death. Groups of nurses and doctors would pass by me and ignore my existence- they were too engaged in their own conversations to address my presence. I checked a few more doors but was met with no Marie. It seemed as if she was nowhere, but I was fairly certain this was the hospital she was staying at. I passed a few more rooms and peered into them with an attentive gaze. Every room came up fruitless- at most, I would be met with the eyes of glaring patients that would peek from their beds. Doubt crept in and I came to the conclusion that this hospital was too large for me to navigate in. Yes, at this rate, I would never find Marie! I couldn’t wait any longer to be in her view, yet this place was mocking me- their long and dreadful halls laughed at me as I opened up another door to find nothing. Nothing, time and time again!

Although I was hopeless in finding her, certain sections of the hospital seemed oddly familiar. It was almost as if déjà vu was riddled throughout the atmosphere; I would run my hand against doorknobs that could faintly recall twisting in the past. The rooms felt as if I have visited them before, yet I never entered this building in my youth. When another doctor was in my sights, I approached to question him about her whereabouts. I tried to maintain a composure that didn’t come off as desperate as I stood in front of him. He was a man with a gentle look to his face that was aged from years of hard work. Wired glasses were sitting on the bridge of his nose, bent in an old-fashioned way. His voice was soft but nonetheless professional.

He asked who I was with somber eyes. I replied quickly. I am a friend of Marie Lindenberg, I explained, and I wanted to see how she was doing. The doctor hung his head low and removed his glasses. Sorrow was painted over his face as he shook his head. In the corner of my eye, I saw a police officer lingering next to a nearby door. The officer had a grim expression to his face as he spoke with a nurse. My uncertainty met the doctor’s sad eyes again. An idea passed my head but I was fearful to acknowledge the truth that vaguely latched itself onto my spine. I asked him where Marie was, this time with a firm voice. He parted his lips and hesitated before speaking.

“I am awfully sorry to say this, sir, but Marie has passed. It happened a few days ago.”

My fingers tightened around the school bag. The next words I uttered stumbled over one another in disorientation.

“How so? Did she- what happened?”

“It was a tragedy- the worst thing I’ve ever seen in my years of working here. We thought she would die of her disease, but someone murdered her.”

“Murdered her?”

“Yes. Someone snuck into the hospital at night and cut her all over. Her body was mutilated beyond recognition. Whoever sick soul did this is truly inhumane- they even took parts of her with them. She was such a wonderful girl... God rest her soul.”

“Wait, excuse me, did you say parts? What do you mean by that?”

“It’d be best to spare you of the details, especially with your age. You will probably hear of it in the upcoming newspaper-”

“Please, tell me. I would like to know- for her sake.”

“If you insist, then I will. Oddly enough, the criminal removed most of her bones and left the hospital with them. We have yet to find the bones, but the police are doing their best to track down the suspect of this terrible crime. I’m truly sorry for your loss.”