Gateway

The gateway is clear. All around mayhem envelopes the heavens, but the passage is empty. Open. Awaiting. For you, Henrietta.

Her small frame quivers on the precipice, of what she is leaving behind. All she has known, endured, treasured. Fingers reach for the air in the place she used to reside. The familiar sting of it is surprisingly comforting. Better the devil you know… you know? It hits her skin with a wasp bite, yet long ago she stopped retracting from the incoming. It was useless.

There had been no place to hide on those barren lands. No trees, no shadows, no hollow caves, no nooks and crannies. No where to cower and retreat. From those damn beasts, from the constant attack.

She had faught, and failed.

She had fled, and failed.

She had stayed still and tried to accept her predicament, and failed.

She had surrendered, and still failed.

An impossible situation, which even death had promised no relief from.

Denial had not helped, nor had being present.

She eyed the harsh red rocks surrounding the long and winding road that led to now. The flat blue sky that promised nothing. A harsh sunlight that burnt everything to a crisp. Deep chasms that taunted with memories of once full rivers. The occassional hollowed tree trunk that whispered of better times long past.

And the constant, relentless wind, cast by the hands of time to wear everything away.

To dust.

To the ether.

To nothing.

With no sign of regeneration in sight.

How had she survived in such a harsh environment, and for so long? She looked down at her arms and hands. A thick leather grew where soft skin used to be. Redness spread over her nose and cheeks from the constant sand rushing at her skin. Her feet resembled a cracked rhino hide more closely than anything human. In self preservation her body had encased itself in a rough shell. It had grown so thick it had begun to crack. As the salty sand had found the cracks and her bloodied flesh beneath, the pain had become unbearable. So, she had sought another land.

Her search had begun many moons ago, when the echo of distant wildlife spurred a hunt for something more. She decided to follow the dry old riverbed for surely it would lead to mountains, spring or sea. Either way it had to be better than this desert shitscape. She walked for so long she forgot what existed before, or indeed, IF anything existed before. She tried to count the day cycles, but after a while she forgot what she was counting and stopped.

The blood dried in her veins and slowed to a crumbling halt for lack of water. Her heart raced in the heat until the dried blood turned to rock in her chest. Her thirst was agonising until her nerves shrivelled up and twisted in the dry heat. Even her vision dried to a gritty pixelation that often tricked her mind into the sight of water, of food, of others. Others. Had she even known another? Ever? She couldn’t remember. And all the while as her shell grew and her body shrank, something kept her going. Something more.

In the dancing squares of light that played at her eyes, the promise of more showed itself. Not so much a vision as a sense, a cooling, like a door left ajar in the distance to let in a cool breeze. A waft, the slightest aroma of lemon and mint etching through the thick metallic odour in the air. A whisper, a tinkle of leaves and bird calls swirling in the wind. A wash, a tint of green overlaid like glass in the midst of the desert. It sung to her like a prayer. She answered with silence for her body had forgotten how to make a sound.

But, it still knew how to walk, and it took her face to face with her own reflection mirrored in the glass like mirage. That caught her off guard. She could barely make out the rough shape of her silhouette with her grainy vision, which called her to move closer, to stick her head through the glass to the other side. And there she saw it. The land of more awaiting her. Impossible, but it was there.

Her eyesight, suddenly crystal clear, took in the magneficence of a rainforest, dappled sunlight streaming in gently, huge tree palm leaves and undergrowth swaying heavily after a rain, brilliant coloured birds of every shape and size calling to each other in the trees. And herself up ahead, naked and fresh having released her crusted shell, plucking sweet plump fruits and singing to the earth. The distant sound of children’s laughter. The gurgling rush of rivers dancing through low waterfalls. The smell of so much life seemed overwhelming in contrast to the desolation behind her.

And then her mind started. What would she do here? How would she survive without her shell? What would her purpose be without the constant striving? A plethora of doubts bubbled up as she looked back at the world that she had known. That she had really known. Harsh but familiar. A fear gripped at her heels, tugged at her to stay in familiar territory. She almost did. But peering into the new world she saw herself dancing, fresh, vibrant, alive and happy, beckoning her to take the plunge and step through the gateway.

She scooped up a handful of the hot red earth, smelt it for the last time, kissed it upon her cheek, and blew it into the wind. No memories held her to this place anymore. She smiled quietly as she let the vision go.

Body falls back into the cooling mist of the forest, inch by inch skin tingles and rejuvenates, leather and shell fall away, moisture and hope seep into body like a sponge, every cell is fed anew with the promise of new life.

Blood swells, heart pumps, veins reach, muscles stretch, and lips curve into a deep smile as bliss and presence wash through Henrietta’s body for the first time.

She takes a breath of relief as she scans her new home, and watches the shell she has shed disolve into the earth to be transformed. She won’t be needing that anymore.

Written by Tjoni Johansen

Copyright 2018 all rights reserved

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If you are interested in having Tjoni Johansen write a personal dreamscape or myth for your self or a project please get in touch.

Her email is info@eccentrix.com.au. Many thanks.

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