¬TW!!: Blood, knives¬
For a second it feels like I am flying .
and then I plunge deep into the chasm. Now I drown. I drown in my own defiance, my own rebellion, my apathy. The fire is burning brightly, but my skin is cold, and my blood is ice. The world falls into pieces and the strange serenity of sinking into an abyss returns, filling me with an out-of-place content. I don't panic. I accepted my fate long before I knew I had. And here it is. The End.
My eyes open slowly, and everything smells of smoke. Is this the afterlife? No. It can't be. Then my body wouldn't be hurting. I stumble out of the pile of rubble that was my parents' steam engine and sway back and forth until I land on my knees. I can't see anything but blurry lines and dots. My hands fall to the floor and my chest heaves up and down.
What now?
Suddenly a flash of bluish light falls onto my face, blocking out everything else. Instinctively, I half- walk, half- crawl towards it falling on my face again. A sharp piece of metal is thrust in front of me and all at once, my vision returns. I can see blood fountaining out of my mouth and my knees and elbows are stinging, scraped and bleeding. The indigo liquid is pooling beneath me and my head swims. The piece of metal is held to my throat, and I follow its short, thick blade to a girl fashioned much in the likeness of her weapon.
Her eyes are a deep brown dusty colour, as sharp and focused as her blade, and her skin is almost golden. She carries herself with strength; her muscular legs are shoulder- width apart and her arms are thrust forward, keeping as much distance between us as one can when holding a knife to a person's throat. She wears a white shirt, tied into a knot at her waist, sleeves wide and billowing in the wind, along with her shoulder- length hair, with the same colour as black coffee and texture like the ever- changing tides of the ocean. High- waisted Khaki shorts covered in pockets, stop just before her knees and long grey socks hug her calves. I look up at her helpless, unable to do anything but gasp and groan uncontrollably.
Wait... she's a human! That means...
"Umhlaba!" I almost sigh the word. The girl loosens her grip on the weapon and tilts her head in curiosity.
"Hi... uh... human. My name is Beatrix. I come from lo dolobha." The girl doesn't respond, and I realize that her language must be different from mine. I now remember my pain and puddle of indigo blood and start to wretch and cough, spewing spit and adding to my puddle.
She should kill me. It's useless for me to live at this point. But at least I made it to Umhlaba. At least it's real. She should really kill me. But she doesn't. She drops her knife and watches me, still cautious.
I'm still vomiting up my guts.
A loud siren pierces my ears. The girl's eyes go wide, and her steady stance is undone. She stares at me for a moment and then offers a hand to me. She quickly realizes this symbolic gesture won't be enough to help and lifts me up from my underarms and I fall like a ragdoll into her. I don't have time to be embarrassed because just at that moment the earth begins to shake, and I stop coughing up blood. I think my stomach is too stunned now. My head is spinning, and the ground rumbling doesn't help.
I lean on the girl as we hobble as fast as we can to an unknown destination.
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Beneath
AdventureBeatrix is stuck in a world she doesn't want to be in. Abusive parents, boring repetitive day-to-day life, and feeling completely alone is finally getting to her. The only thing keeping her afloat is a book she found in an abandoned library long ago...
