Out of the ashes .... bocadelinferno
Consciousness hit me over the head like a mallet, my head was throbbing, in the dull pound that continues to plague you, throbbing in an evil dance with my heart, both keeping a sick cadence, over and over. This felt like a waking dream, dull pains rolled in waves through my body, a body that betrayed me, I didn’t know it anymore, I didn’t know where all of this pain originated.
The smell of the sweet dewy grass filled my nostrils, and I breathed. Only a moment ago, the briefest of seconds, I had been … straining I try to remember something, even the tiniest of threads and I don’t remember anything. The dull ache in my head worsens, as spots fill my field of vision. Blinking in rapid succession as if to clear the dark spots dancing around, it just makes me dizzier.
The breeze picks up, cool against my bare skin. How could I not realize I was lying on the hard ground, rolling over carefully I made it to all fours and immediately, had to fall back on my back legs, looking as if I were doing a yoga stretch.
After a few long deep breaths, I tried it again, and I was able to crawl on all fours, making my way for a while, until the dizziness subsided. Wobbling, I made it to my feet and began walking, the moonlight my only cover. Dazed, I made my way forward, forward toward the lights, toward the music, music that I knew, this place everything was comforting, and the panic that had welled up with in me began to subside.
I didn’t know where I was, but it felt like home. “La dracu!” I cursed under my breath, the sound of my own voice, and the words without thinking rolled off my tongue, but that knowledge didn’t help me, from the distance the music called to me, calmed me so I continued on my trek toward something that was obviously familiar.
Shins bleeding, long thin rivers of blood trailing down my legs, my feet cut on the rocky road I’d taken as if by rote, my body turning slightly blue as the cold belly of night draped around me, undaunted by the tingling pain that was prickling my body, something kept me pushing forward. How long did I walk? I don’t know. I had no way to measure time, and as I walked, with every step I concentrated not on my destination, but on calming my panicked brain. At first, I counted my steps, so I could count. Soon it grew wearisome, and as my body ached to stop, I kept on like a salmon coming back to its birth waters to spawn. If a salmon could do it, then surely I could. There were things in the night, things
As I walked, my heart began to race, my imagination running wild. Parched, I would have, at that moment given anything for cold, clear water. Instinct my own innate desire for self-preservation kept me going. My feet would not take the brutality of the road much longer, and my body although warmed by walking, was in a losing battle against the cold and the drain on my seemingly frail system.
In the distance, a soft glow, my eyes now on the prize. All I had to do was get to the light. On the continually cooling wind, the soft strains of violins met me, welcoming me. The low sounds of laughter accompanied the violins in a happy song of days gone by. For a moment, I stopped, frozen and afraid, I stood there and standing I began to shiver harder, my head hammering my entire body working toward a mutiny against me. The steam from my breath danced its way toward heaven. The stars above twinkled as if to say everything would be all right. But that wasn’t reassuring. Taking one final long breath, I awkwardly made my way toward the people I knew to be just yards ahead. I’d faced worse in my lifetime, how I knew that I was uncertain, I didn’t even know my name, but that I felt was true, yet moving forward from the oblivion that lay behind me to the life in front of me terrified me. I was lost and yet, I felt strangely at home.
An eternity seemed to pass as I stood just outside their circle, once they knew I was there, it was as silent as a tomb. The men stood, the women took their children into their arms. I guess I would be afraid if a naked bleeding women came walking into my camp. Then they began talking and shouting. “Mala!” and then the insults, “Drac, vrăjitoare, rău; nenorocire, demon, those words repeated over and over, interspersed with a more desperate, “Mala, a face grevă!” They were calling Mala to come out.
I began swaying where I stood, as I lifted my hand they took a step backward, and then came a hateful, “Cadavru!” They were calling me a corpse!
“England,” was all I could think of to say, as my eyes fluttered closed, my body felt as if it were spinning, flying away to some safe cloud, instead it fell into a crumpled heap on the ground.
The smell of the sweet dewy grass filled my nostrils, and I breathed. Only a moment ago, the briefest of seconds, I had been … straining I try to remember something, even the tiniest of threads and I don’t remember anything. The dull ache in my head worsens, as spots fill my field of vision. Blinking in rapid succession as if to clear the dark spots dancing around, it just makes me dizzier.
The breeze picks up, cool against my bare skin. How could I not realize I was lying on the hard ground, rolling over carefully I made it to all fours and immediately, had to fall back on my back legs, looking as if I were doing a yoga stretch.
After a few long deep breaths, I tried it again, and I was able to crawl on all fours, making my way for a while, until the dizziness subsided. Wobbling, I made it to my feet and began walking, the moonlight my only cover. Dazed, I made my way forward, forward toward the lights, toward the music, music that I knew, this place everything was comforting, and the panic that had welled up with in me began to subside.
I didn’t know where I was, but it felt like home. “La dracu!” I cursed under my breath, the sound of my own voice, and the words without thinking rolled off my tongue, but that knowledge didn’t help me, from the distance the music called to me, calmed me so I continued on my trek toward something that was obviously familiar.
Shins bleeding, long thin rivers of blood trailing down my legs, my feet cut on the rocky road I’d taken as if by rote, my body turning slightly blue as the cold belly of night draped around me, undaunted by the tingling pain that was prickling my body, something kept me pushing forward. How long did I walk? I don’t know. I had no way to measure time, and as I walked, with every step I concentrated not on my destination, but on calming my panicked brain. At first, I counted my steps, so I could count. Soon it grew wearisome, and as my body ached to stop, I kept on like a salmon coming back to its birth waters to spawn. If a salmon could do it, then surely I could. There were things in the night, things
As I walked, my heart began to race, my imagination running wild. Parched, I would have, at that moment given anything for cold, clear water. Instinct my own innate desire for self-preservation kept me going. My feet would not take the brutality of the road much longer, and my body although warmed by walking, was in a losing battle against the cold and the drain on my seemingly frail system.
In the distance, a soft glow, my eyes now on the prize. All I had to do was get to the light. On the continually cooling wind, the soft strains of violins met me, welcoming me. The low sounds of laughter accompanied the violins in a happy song of days gone by. For a moment, I stopped, frozen and afraid, I stood there and standing I began to shiver harder, my head hammering my entire body working toward a mutiny against me. The steam from my breath danced its way toward heaven. The stars above twinkled as if to say everything would be all right. But that wasn’t reassuring. Taking one final long breath, I awkwardly made my way toward the people I knew to be just yards ahead. I’d faced worse in my lifetime, how I knew that I was uncertain, I didn’t even know my name, but that I felt was true, yet moving forward from the oblivion that lay behind me to the life in front of me terrified me. I was lost and yet, I felt strangely at home.
An eternity seemed to pass as I stood just outside their circle, once they knew I was there, it was as silent as a tomb. The men stood, the women took their children into their arms. I guess I would be afraid if a naked bleeding women came walking into my camp. Then they began talking and shouting. “Mala!” and then the insults, “Drac, vrăjitoare, rău; nenorocire, demon, those words repeated over and over, interspersed with a more desperate, “Mala, a face grevă!” They were calling Mala to come out.
I began swaying where I stood, as I lifted my hand they took a step backward, and then came a hateful, “Cadavru!” They were calling me a corpse!
“England,” was all I could think of to say, as my eyes fluttered closed, my body felt as if it were spinning, flying away to some safe cloud, instead it fell into a crumpled heap on the ground.