I went through a hurricane where nothing had a real shape or color, size or weight, only deformed stains. My head was spinning every second while I was in that state, until some lines became clearer, creating a still confusing environment that, slowly, started to appear around me.
The sky was so dark it seemed to be night, but a little, diffuse white dot made me realize it was still daytime. The air was dirty; the earth so dry it was cracked; all the animals, or all that I could see, had died.
All of the buildings, stores, houses, towers and restaurants, all of them, were ruins or half-way destroyed, patiently waiting for their final day, tired of being in the world. The streets were shattered too. I could see pieces of rocks and stones on the sidewalks, pieces out of place and even whole stretches turned into nothing.
But that wasn't anything compared to the villagers, who had an expressionless, dead-like face, grayish skin, dull eyes, and their mouths closed in a thin line I could hardly see. People I used to see walking with determination, laughing, arguing, crying and speaking were now moving as if they didn't care what would be of their lives in the next second.
There wasn't anything clean, someone happy, someone... Someone alive. I shook my head after thinking that. All of them were alive, of course they were; they breathed, they walked, moved, did all the things that a human being was supposed to do; but it was their unhappy faces that made me think it was all lost already...
Nothing was coming out of their mouths, just the most elementary things; the most basic words. Hello, Bye, I need this, Sorry, Please... Not a "How are you?" or "So long since I saw you last time" It was even hard to think they still had their minds, or even a soul...
All my body started to shake as I tried not to cry, keeping my tears inside, not to think that everything was lost and telling myself there was still a chance, small and very hidden between the ghost land that place had become. But it was in vain, as it didn't help me. A rebellious, traitor tear escaped from my head and made her way down my cheek.
I looked for my castle, my palace, my home, and when I found it, I wished I had never done it. Nothing of it was standing still, and the thing I saw, was whatever but my house. A giant, dark temple occupied the place where it was supposed to be, the same as in the times of my great-grandparents.
Surrounded by black thorns that reached the sky, the walls were a single piece of stone around thousands of hundreds of twisted towers, all of them ending in a pointed, grey roof, like millions of snakes summoned from the very last circle of the underworld. There were no windows to be seem in all of the building, and just one door; the gate of the entrance, made of metal.
The Tenth obviously wanted us away from her palace, because it was already hers now. My first thought was about my parents, my family, all my friends and those who lived with me. Knowing the Tenth, how cruel she could be, the would be prisoners in the dungeons, as if they were assassins or thieves.
I was immediately transported to the dungeons in the middle of a ferocious wind, who erased that first image, entering me again in a hurricane of colors, shapes and sensations, to leave me in front of a new one that confirm what I was thinking.
In what seemed to be abandoned cells, in the almost absolute darkness, there was a tiny window with bars as thick as an adult arm. I came closer to see better, knowing beforehand what, or who, I would see inside.
Despite the many shadows, a black sea that surround them, I can identify my father's outline, hear my mother's silent cries, quiet sobs, and another sound I cannot, and don't want to, identify.
When my eyes adjusted to the almost nonexistent light, it was easier to see them; hungry, thin, weak, dressed in dirty clothes and with dark circles around their eyes. They obviously hadn't seen the sun for months.
"Do you think this could really last forever?" I suddenly heard my mother's voice.
"Not at all," said my father with his strong voice, "I know there's a weak point in all this madness and insanity, but we must be patient in order to see it. We just need to wait, and there will be an opportunity to all of us to be free once again," he spoke as he seeing me, still sleeping; suddenly his eyes start to close.
"She must know we are tal...", and he fell asleep, in the same moment that my mother.
A hurricane came to me, whipping me throughout the body. I tried to keep seeing my family, to keep in there, recognize their faces in the skinned-skulls they've become, but it was impossible.
Ipassed through the stairs illuminated by white fire in the walls, the dark, infinite halls; I traspassed walls as if something pulled me, a strong thread around my neck, pressing so much I thought it was about cut me in two at any time.
Despite my body is made of air and that I'm just a projection of my own mind, I can still feel the impact with each and every one of the walls, the pain running over all my muscles, just as if I was there in the flesh.
The last thing I could see was the dead land, soulless and helpless villagers. Each one of them with their empty gazes; and children crying in a dark place where nobody could see them. The the freezing laughter of the Tenth is last thing I hear.
The wind pulls me to the ground, returning to Dreamare with a big headache.
YOU ARE READING
The darkest Sleeping Beauty you'll ever meet. They say dreaming is one of the best things, but for me, it is a never-ending pain. I can see how my kingdom is going under, I can see as it slowly turns into hell, how filled it is with so much misery...