She turned and tossed in her bed. Her fists clenched the frail fabrics that covered the shredded pieces of the mat that she called a bedding. She shook her head again from side to side trying to fight the demons in her head.
Everything seemed to be in frenzy. She has been here before more times than she can remember. But she will always remember the first trip to this place. A little compact city with downtown industries and more metal that the earth itself. A place whose life was depicted by more machines and androids than any living people. In that very first moment, she was the only human with a beating heart; the only being with warm blood and flesh in the streets. The buildings around her seemed to have withstood a violent hurricane for a few decades. They were rusted and almost falling apart and all she could get from the structures that were within the reach of her sight was a complete maze. They seemed to have been halls for people or assembling industries. She didn’t know. She was just a desert princess on the wrong grounds.
The few living people on this place controlled the machine. Manufactured creatures roamed around the remains of the city as if warning whatever that was threatening to strike or proved to be a problem. She never asked questions. The nerdy black boy with curly and kinky hair didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk further other than offer the one sentence like it was the rule of law.
On day three, she had decided to stroll in the gutters of the city. That is where the natural life was. People hid behind the closets in their own homes for fear of the machine they created. Carcasses of dogs and other domestic animals were littered in the drainage and sewers like normal waste products. The city was isolated and leaked fear, and death and hostility. As she walked from one house to another, nothing changed. The situation kept getting worse and worse. Children ailing, women wailing and devastated men dying. Humanity kept imploring her to help but she didn’t know how. So each time she visited, she learnt to stay away from the corners and bumping into people that will need her help and yet she has nothing to offer.
Sometimes she just sits down and waits for it to end. If she’s not talking to herself, her personalities sit with her just by the roadside and have a very conflicting conversation. She laughs at them sometimes, most times actually before she realizes its all her. Come hell or high waters, she is not being part of that conversation to engage in the fights of whatever is going within these spaces. She never seems to be part of that conversation. Sometimes she takes strolls going nowhere in particular; just waiting for that wake up call. As she listens to them argues. She threw pebbles, admired the chaos and each freaking time, she waited for that wake up. That little geeky boy always showed up like a well-trained soldier and recited his deliverables. She gets knocked over by a metallic machine being remotely directed. Well, she figured that one out of her 15th trip to this hell. It always came. She has grown so used to the routine. She gets thrown on the floor and wakes up in another dimension.
She wakes up leaning against a tree. It’s a forest and she is surrounded by the greenery and beautiful chirping of birds. She lifts her face letting the thin rays of sunshine that has escaped through the canopies seduce her roughened skin to its wakefulness as the shadows danced just like flames would. The skin that was so used to the harsh desert scorch now felt like skin deserving some love and attention. Her mind was alive, absorbing every little pleasure. The dancing and swaying of the leaf against the slow whistling of the winds as they caressed her cold but dump skin. She inhaled the freshness air; she doesn’t remember how fresh air feels like in her lungs. She was alive, she felt alive.
She could get used to the easy life. The air that smells like freedom and begs to be enjoyed. She closes her eyes to soak it. She closed my eyes to soak on the peaceful harmony of the environment provided by nature itself. She is immediately disrupted by loud noises and the smell of fire and smoke. She panics and at the same time confused. Fire and forests are not best of friends. She runs looking for the source of the fire or the smell of smoke or just anything to feed her suspicion. Suddenly, she realises a weird thing. The trees were coming alive in a more hostile manner. The shrubs stretched out its twigs in defence. There were eyes in the midst of tress and within the shadows of these canopies. Rimar withdrew backwards on her buttocks and arms before standing up for a flight.
She started running but the entangled shrubs were not proving to be any easier when it comes to her movement. The fires were spreading like a tsunami and covering more ground. Rimar noticed that she was not alone as a shadow of a male poured water onto the fires with a bucket.
”That is not enough, we need help.”
Her voice was too shallow to reach the ears of anyone. As the man continued fetching water and pouring it on the spreading fires. Rimar stood rooted on the ground as shrubs stretched out to her. Her effort to climb the nearest rock hit an even harder rock she realised it was a tree stump and it was alive. It pushed him away prompting to fall and hitting his head against the dump ground. She falls down and get entangled. The fires are catching up on her. She screams, loudly for the dead to hear.
Well, that was the first time she was here. Just like the metal world, she has been here before. The place always comes after the robot world. With each trip, she has tried to look beyond the heavy machines setting the forest a blaze. She runs to the top most grounds and tries to find ways on how to stop the fire. Fucking industrialisation. But now she just sits, pretends to talk to plants and shrubs and waits to be chased by the highly volatile forest habitants in form of plants. She runs for her life and wakes up in a place she is so familiar with.
She finally wakes up with a start. She is tired and exhausted. The dreams are taking much of the energy from her without even her noticing it. One dream, two places of the same place, and whether she does something or nothing, she always wakes up tired and ready for an everlasting rest. There are bugs under her eyes and her lips are dry. She wipes the little droplets of sweat from her brows.
Ako whines from his corner of the dusty shelter and walks to lie beside Rimar. He shakes his body spraying tons of dust and fur across the room, some landing on Rimar who instinctively closes her eyes.
”Ako, stop it. You are spraying dirt on me.”
Ako comes and licks her face as she stretched out her hand to pet him regardless. It is almost in the afternoon, she can here the sand dunes boiling behind the hills threatening to bring down every structure in its way. She breathes slowly ensuring air gets to every part of her body. Her body needs to wake up. She has been outside in the last three days. She feels weak and her body is slowly giving away. The sand dunes wear off quicker than they are supposed to. Maybe she has been off too long to master the new pattern. She doesn’t think so. Ako also looks confused. That is not a familiar pattern.
“Are you also surprised about that Ako?”
There is suddenly a shadow at the entrance of the shelter. Ako goes to the entrance and walks right past the torn rug that separated the sleeping area from the other large space that they used as storage. His tail was stiff and he was backing loudly. Rimar tried to stand up and check out what was happening but she was still exhausted from the taunting dreams. She hoped it wasn’t something serious. It was probably the desert animals straying into the docile. Ako will take care of that. He always takes care of her and her him. It is an unspoken pact they created together when the raids killed every member of their community while she hid in the mountains. From the time she was 17 years old, it has been survival, and then the dreams showed up.
Ako was suddenly quiet and his tail settled quietly between his legs. Rimar couldn’t feel her legs. She reached under her pile of rugs that made her pillow; she pulled out a curved knife. She was weak, scared and didn’t know what to do. She shadow waved a hand and Ako obeyed the unspoken command by sitting down and ceasing with the barkings instantly.
No one has been there. No one was alive. The last time they checked, there was no signs of human life existence within a few miles of radius from where they were. They were surrounded by purely sand even though they were lucky enough to be living in place they could get occasional water, and shade from the countable palm trees. It was the only small area within the Wolkan desert that could support life for the amount of days, weeks, monthly or even years like it was the case for Rimar. The place was hidden from most desert travellers by tall and extensive hills that were covered in dust making them look like sand dunes. Sand dunes are dangerous for anyone walking through the desert. Especially if they are as tall as the hills. She has been safe here for a while. She enjoyed the silence of these place as she tried to forget what happened to her loving village.
What became of them? It was long time ago, it should be a memory, but every time she thought of them, the memory revived every aspects of it like the occurrences were happening in that moment and time. Every day she kept running, far and far away from the place she called home. Everyday she felt the need to burry every little spec of memory that turned her into a runner. And then the dreams came and turned her into a vegetable human being taken care by her dog. With that knowledge, now you can guess why she was so worked up with the idea that someone was in her shelter.
As the image of the other person came closer and closer to her, she felt agitated. Her cover had been blown and yet she can’t run away. She held onto the only power she could afford at that moment and wielded its power in the grasp.
”Ako? Hello?”
The rugged shield is slightly pulled aside and a figure in a brown cloak stands at the door way. Rimar’s fists are shaking around the curved knife. The cloak is pulled over to cover larger part of her face and a large black scarf is covering her neck and chin. She looks to the left where Ako sleeps. Rimar sees her pale skin and thin lips. They look like they belong to a young woman, probably her age.
”Who are you, what are you doing here?”
She walks around unbothered by the questions that were being thrown at her. Observing, carefully calculating, familiarizing. Her gaze sweeps the entire of the tiny room and finally to Rimar. She hears Ako whimper just outside the door.
”Who the fuck are you and what have you done to my dog? You better start talking”
The cloaked girl sighs as she finally settled at the foot of her mat. Looks like she was satisfied with the spirit of exploring the little shuck.
”Relax, I wouldn’t hurt our best friend. He keeps us sane. Oh well, he keeps you sane and when you are sane we are comfortable. But of late, that has not been happening. You might also want to put that thing in your hand down. I doubt you have the energy to attack let alone stand up. ”
She waved her hand in a snap and Ako came rushing in. He settled at the bedside burying his head in the gathers that made her bulky pants. Rimar was confused. Whoever this was, had too much details on her. She squinted her eyes as if to read her thoughts.
”Sorry, I didn’t catch it. Who did you say you are.”
The cloaked girl removed her hood exposing her curly black hair that was held at the back of her head with frail strands hanging on the sides of her face. Her sharp jawline and bulbous almond-like hazel eyes that fit perfectly into her oval face darted all over her physique. She took deep breaths, she undid her scarf. She embodied all the calmness that the universe had to give. Rimar looked at her, once, twice and then nodded. There is no way that could be true. It was probably her tired mind playing tricks on her. That should be it because there was no other way to express whatever was happening right there and in that moment. Ako also noticed the confusion in the room and backed. He didn’t know if he had chosen the right person to align with either. The cloaked girl that was no longer cloaked smiled at Ako and he immediately settled. she looked exactly like her in every spec and detail
”I am the traveller.”
To Be Continued
Creatively Disturbed 