Beautiful Places

Reads: 55  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Google+
Work in progress to pass the time!

Submitted: March 15, 2017

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: March 15, 2017

A A A

A A A


Staring up at the ceiling of this room somehow made most things in life almost fade away. For one it was like being able to escape the world and all of the problems that one would endure. For two the complete emptiness of the ceiling was mesmerizing to the degree that made it near impossible to no longer think. 
With the purely gray paint with a near perfect flat texture made it similar to looking out into the vastness of space. With the sun setting through the large window alongside one of the walls to the right of my now near lifeless body. With the sun coming to a close of the day it left a slight orange haze over the paint. The mixture of gray with sun seemed to create a warm and loving color that only further relaxed my body. 
After what seemed like an eternity of staring at the blank paint and warmth of a setting star my body began to come to terms of what it needed. After so long of being told as a child of what drugs will do to you, it seemed like there was no way to be touched. Though after starting it didn’t end, only bringing me into a spiral and downfall that would conclude with my eventual death or decay of life so slow that there was no longer a purpose.
These feelings of depression and harrowing fear still did nothing to change the habits I so desperately needed to end. The feelings and desire to change were always overwhelmed with the urge and impulse to fix, over and over again. With each bit of progress my grip slipped once more and I fell back into the demon and vice that was Songbird. 
Looking to my left from the space I was sitting, against the wall and on the floor, I pulled a shoe box from under my bed. It was an old box through many years of being in use even after the shoes have been gone. With a small logo of blue stripes withered away from scratches over a black box the container was nearly about to go. 
Placing my hands over the top of the box and gripping the edges I lifted the top to reveal what was inside of the container. It was nearly empty except for a small baggie about the size of two thumbs together with what looked like four small circular white pills. Songbird as I have come to call it was something of a random discovery, and what happened with soaking a tablet of Acid in liquid heroin. Taking just one pill would send me to another world it felt like.
Setting the top aside and pulling out the small baggie I opened it up and removed one of the white spheres. It had a chalky texture and was dry after being soaked so long ago and being dried right after. Looking closer at it there was an almost surreal quality to it. Nevertheless I placed the pill in my mouth and under my tongue.
Building saliva in my mouth before swallowing, I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. The feeling of near instant warmth rushed my body and flooded my system of near perfect satisfaction. The feeling soon covered all of myself and made my entire nervous system seem to just stop. Soon after there was no longer sound coming from any part of the world
With pure numbness and silence I opened my eyes once more to take in the room around me. Though it had seemed that the sun went from setting to being around noon in a matter of an instant. It was unlike songbird to seem to make me unaware of time passing. While gauging my surroundings and taking in my room I also saw that my box was gone.
Sitting, doing nothing and being unable to move struck fear to my core and made its way as the only feeling I was capable of. 
Though as time seemed to pass my bodily functions returned to normal and I was soon able to regain enough strength to stand. Using the wall as a crutch my legs began to stabilize enough to walk and I made the 5 small steps to the door out of my room.
Gripping the handle and twisting the knob I pulled open the small wooden and near hollow door and looked out to what I was expecting to see my home. I was instead greeted to a meadow. A nice calm, serine view of a river and prairie of flowers and plants as far as my eyes could see.
Making each small step out of the door I found that this was no mere illusion but a reality. The grass stroked the small bits of hair left on my legs due to my neglect to shave them. The flowers blew in the wind and my hair went from my back to swooping over my shoulder.
“Pretty beautiful, isn’t it?” I heard a voice from what was definitely a man behind me. Almost instantly as I heard the voice I spun my body and head around to meet the mysterious person in the eyes, yet it was not someone I knew...
The man was short, well short for the average height of a white middle aged man these days. Clearly he did not work out consistently but simultaneously was not fat and appeared to be in good health if not muscular. He wore a simple red and black checkered flannel shirt and basic blue jeans. His hair trimmed short and primarily covered by a baseball cap, though the cap itself was blank and only the color of blue. His facial hair was completely non existent and what seemed like a good clean shave.
“It is, though I know it’s not real.” I responded, perhaps this was a lucid dream I hear about others having many times. With my retort the man approached to my right and looked out to the sight from which my back was turned to. A long silent pause filled the air.
“Oh but that’s where you’re wrong Cassandra.” He spoke as though he was going to continue from there but instead just stopped leaving the gap for another question.
“Of course this isn’t real I just came from my room to the middle of nowhere.” I began but stopped.
“But here you are wrong again Cassandra, you didn’t come from your room.” Once again stopping to leave all my curiosities unanswered.
“Then where exactly am I? Because last I checked I don’t remember my room being some random building in the middle of a field!” I became upset from the lack of understanding.
“That’s a great question now isn’t it.” There was another long pause yet I felt no need to break it this time. “This is a beautiful place is it not?”
The pointless question simply enraged me to the point of pure frustration, I lost my temper. “What do you want! WHO ARE YOU! ANSWER MY DAMN QUESTIONS!” Taking  a moment to breathe yet still in anger. “Tell me something or I won’t be able to control what I do next.” 
The man didn’t move or even look back at me, but instead just continued to gaze away. “Oh but you will. You’re always in control Cassandra, and yet you keep up with the new drugs. You kept your stash in a shoe box you’ve had since 6th grade. And now are about to run out of Songbird correct?” 
The statements of his knowing of me caused me to freeze in place. No one knew where I kept my stash, no one knew WHAT I kept it in. No one even knew I called it Songbird or even made the damn thing in the first place! 
Building up the courage and now trying to be calm I asked, “Who are you?”


© Copyright 2017 Ashlyn Burns. All rights reserved.