Beneath

Part 1- Chapter 3- Belong

¬TW!!: Drowning, fire, suicide, corpses¬

I am drowning. I can feel it but I can't move, I can't open my eyes. I can hear Kron, dad, and mama all screaming. I want to help them, but I can't move, I can't feel anything. Water soaks into the sheets of my bed, touching the of my heels, sending a shiver down my spine. But my eyelids are made of lead, my hands are tingling with pins and needles and my feet only feel the water. I can only listen to the water enclosing my face and filling my lungs, gushing into my body. Everything is muffled by the water plunging into my ears. I'm aching to scream, to swim, to do something; but even my strongest will is useless against my paralysis.

"KRON!!!" my voice echoes against the walls of my empty room, devoid of water. It was a dream. I crash back into the pillow, instinctively placing a hand over my mouth. This is extremely embarrassing. My baba doesn't take lightly to nightmares, he says they are a weakness of the human consciousness. I personally believe that a lot of the thoughts I have are weaknesses of the human consciousness. I can hear footsteps running up the stairs and I inhale sharply; how do I explain this? I'll tell him that I stubbed my toe. Yes, that's it. I called Kron and not him because... because of... impulse? No, wait hold on, he knows... where the cleaning ointment is! And he knows exactly which one works for me. Wait, no what if-

"BEA?!" Kron ran into the room looking extremely worried, almost tripping over himself. "What happened?!" He sat at the edge of my bed, examining me to see what's wrong.

"Oh nothing." I sit up and wave my hand dismissively. "I just stubbed my toe."

Kron looked confused for a second and then seemed to accept my lousy explanation.

"Alright, well you need to get up for school anyway. Looks like you're already dressed, so that saves you rain jacket." Then he skips out of my room, courteously closing the door behind him. This is a rare act of chivalry that was obviously meant to allow me the time to slip out of the window without anyone noticing. For a moment I consider; what if I really did it? Really ran away? Would I find Umhlaba? Or would I just be in immense trouble? Probably the latter. But was it worth it to risk that? No. As usual Kron was wrong, and I was right. The grim truth always wins, even if it isn't apparent at the moment. I leap down the stairs, skipping a few at once, not bothering with the mirror. I sling my back over my back and slip out the door. Kron is a few steps ahead of me and gives me a secret smile. I give him closed fists and thumbs. Another dreary day, misted over in clouds and unanswered questions awaits me.

I suddenly stop walking. This is it. This will be my life. Forever. And it will be Kron's too. And everyone else in this miserable town will share the same boring fate. This isn't living. This will never be living. I will never be living. Unless I do something, something reckless and stupid. That would make me happy, satisfied. Yes, Kron, I will run away, and it will be the greatest triumph of my life. I will certainly fail, but is that really the point?

I turn around towards the direction of the house. It's a beige colour lined with brown and a deep ugly red. Every house looks the same. Every street looks the same. Every neighbourhood looks the same.

It's all the same. Forever and always the same. 

 A small steam engine sits at the gate of each house; an agent of travel. I swivel myself in all directions, gripping my bag's shoulder strap tightly. Mama and baba were nowhere to be seen and Kron had continued walking as if nothing happened. The world flies past me as I force the steam engine's door open and spring inside. My heart is pounding, and my chest is rising dramatically up and down. I slip my hand into the key holder and turn them. With a deep rumble the engine starts and my hands slide across the shifter. The whole street is staring at me, but I don't look up. I can feel their eyes on me. Soon they would come to realization. I must act fast. I pull the engine out of the gate and mama and baba burst through the door. I catch their eyes for a moment, and I look at them with absolute pure defiance. Then I shift the engine into first. Then into second. Then into third. I don't look behind me. I am going to Phetho. The centre of lo dolobha, where all roads lead.

I am going to Umhlaba. I am speeding to my death. My vision narrows to the tar on the road and the yellow line in between. Everything is slightly blurred, and the shouts of my family are muffled; Kron whooping with jubilance, my mama and father screaming at the top of their lungs for me to come back. I push my foot flat down on the accelerator. I watch my pupils narrow in the mirror, my tail swinging madly from side to side. I feel exactly the same as when I ran home. I am a rebel. I am living. I am flying. I deep primal roar escapes from my lungs as I come into view of the cliff. This is it. Phetho. Where the world ends. And I'm going to drive off it. Everyone is far behind me now.

Suddenly I smell something burning. I stare into the rear-view mirror, and I can see the two back seats crumbling to ash as a fire crawls up to the ceiling. I focus my attention on the large chasm in front of me, littered with decaying corpses. That's where I'll be. And in a way it is Umhlaba. It's a place where I belong. Among the masses of rebels, among the masses of obedient citizens. We all belong when we die. We're all the same. The fire catches my oily hair and I grab a pair of scissors from the cupboard. I slice off the entire stringy unkept mess which has burdened me for so long and I throw it, ashes and all, onto the road.

The ground falls beneath me.

>>

This was only the beginning.