PERTRIFIED: AN EXPERIMENTAL PIECE OF FICTION

in #fiction6 years ago

girl-2067378_1280.jpg
photo by composita on pixabay.


LIFT OFF


There was a small swing on the grass. It was made of metal bars to hold the metal chains attached to the seat for the swing. On the seat of the swing was a flat wood that had warped with the continual torture of the elements. The swing used to have a coat of grey paint but time had slowly washed the paint off and the traces of gradual oxidization of metal could be seen all over the swing. Someone had rolled the chains over the metal bars that held the swing and as a result the swing was shorter than it had been intended. It was therefore comfortable enough for me to swing. My legs didn’t scrape the floor as it would have if the chains were of their original length.

I walked back with my buttocks on the seat of the swing. I stopped when the swing seat was as high as I could get it without removing my feet from the ground then I lifted my legs from the ground and the voyage began. I raised my legs straight as an arrow and flew through the air, back and forth. You could hear the whine of the swing as I disobeyed the laws of gravity with the sureness of a man making a machine do what he has been forbidden by the laws of nature. I soon increased speed and the earth began to blur as I rose higher and higher with every pendulum-like movement of the swing.

When I was sure that I had gotten to as high as I would ever get, I removed my hands from the chains and I jumped off the swing. I sailed through the sky, like a bird. I could feel the wind rushing passed my ears, blinding my eyes to the rushing world and my ears to the voiceless scream that fled my lips. My heart pounded loud beneath my chest bone and I could feel the searing pain of too much air forcing its way around my lungs. It was the most exhilarating feeling ever. It ended soon with a splash as I fell into the little stream like a particle from space, an asteroid of tiny proportions.

As the water splashed about with my displacement of the status quo, I could hear the laughter of my cronies who were either splashing water all over the place in abandon or waiting their turn at the swing in trepidation. Fiona had gone on the swing but somehow she had managed to land just at the edge of the stream and break her arm. How she managed to achieve that is anybody’s guess. Two of her friends had taken her home to her parents. I didn't want to be in their shoes for anything.

As I broke the surface of the stream and sought my best friend, Ufouma with my eyes, another weight displaced the water with a large splash and pushed me under. I was not prepared for the water. It invaded my lungs, blinded my eyes and stole my breath. I struggled underneath the water trying to find air but I am a poor swimmer and I could not get rid of the weight on my chest. Panic set in and I watched me drown.

In the cocoon of the waters, I could hear the dull throb of panic on the shore. I could see the link between me and life thin and I sighed and let the last bubble escape my nose, then unable to hold the stale air in any longer, I opened my lips to gulp and the water poured in. As my thoughts darkened into night, a hand grabbed me and that was all.


INTERLUDE


We were playing in the sun
Where the gases kissed the eternal night
And made beauty of the wastes
That paraded in flowery skirts
Across untamed galaxies
Where suns slept and moons
Grew moldy with empty revolutions.

We were kids with plastic soldiers
And guns totting fingers,
Pointing fake targets on soft skins
Still gleaming from palm oil
And mother’s soft touch.
We were warriors in capes
Flying from the safe top of
Sharp sand mounds white with
Gleaming pebbles whispering of old seas
And forgotten crustaceans creeping
In that eternal darkness.

We were kids with dreams,
Sipping flower nectars stained
With the dewy kisses
Of early morning silent showers.
We were artists painting the world
With our colourful screams,
Building worlds with brooms
And matchstick castles and slippers sole,
Soiled with the wear and tear
Of harsh harmattan seasons.

What did we know of the jungle’s bite
Or the sea’s heaviness on the limbs
Of drunken sailors swallowed
By the siren’s call?
What did we expect
As we flew through the sky
Without wings, sure that we will fall,
Sure that we will be fine?
Who did we think we were
As we sallied forth
With our trust and hope; kings, queens,
Comic book heroes or
Just mere boys and girls
Sure that mother will come
And father will be strong?


FLIGHT


fantasy-3281795_1280.jpg
photo by Kellepics on pixabay.

Pertrified, I stared at my mother’s face as she stared at me. I waited for the whiplash of her anger to whip through my skin but all that came out was a hesitant moan, then a groan, and then, to my surprise, a wail fled her lips. I giggled at her reaction, thinking she must be mad at my wet clothes until I realized she was not looking at me. She was looking at something that hid between the bowed heads of my friends. I wondered when I grew that tall that I could see the top of my friends’ heads.

I dropped down then I stopped. I looked up and looked about me; I was flying without wings. I giggled again; I had become a superhero like Superman. I will get a cape later, I thought as I swooped down on the gathering of heads. Nobody parted for me but somehow I saw a perplexing sight; Mother cradled me in her arm as sobs escaped her chest like one of the old engines at the steel factory. It was no longer funny. I had an evil twin or a clone? I peered closer then I heard the steps coming fast.

It was my father, he was sweating, his breath locked in his chest and his eyes were wide with something I soon realized was fear. He stopped as soon as he saw mother. He stared at her as she wept. He never moved beyond that spot. He became still like a statue of salt. I moved towards him but something held me. I wanted to explain the joke to the two of them but a vice grip held me. I turned back but I saw nothing behind me. As I turned back to the crowd, I felt myself being pulled away and fast. I screamed and struggled against the tug but no one turned.

I called out to mother and father, to Ufouma, who sat on the ground, her pink gown wet with water, her face wet with tears. I screamed then suddenly, the world fled me and all became dark and silent. I flew alone in the emptiness. Alone, I flew.


©warpedpoetic, 2018.

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Oh lawd! My chest hurts and I can actually feel the prickle of tears behind my eyelids. This was exquisitely perfect @warpedpoetic. You write with a passion and depth that's amazing!

#Bigwaves

Thank you @mosunomotunde for your kind words. I am glad you loved the piece. It has been a while since I wrote prose. Just thought to test the waters. 😂

Please do come again.

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