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Heavy Breathing

by Mikayla Decker 6 months ago in Fantasy
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Insufficient Forms

Stinging air slaps my lungs as I gasp them, like they will be my last ones. A slow chilly breeze brushes its fingers along my spine and tries to steal my rage from me, tries to steal my fire, the only thing I have left. My chest is tight and heavy and I can't seem to get enough air into my blasted lungs, I'm dying. I wish it would just clutch me like a rose to a lover's heart and that would be the end of it.

Instead Im forced to keep going. For so long I've had my anger to push me, I'm afraid it's not enough anymore. The breeze turns to a sharp gail and the trees I'm curled in groan their displeasure at being awakened. The tan grasses rustle against themselves in a great cacophony, an awakening symphony that's loud to my ears-too loud, much too loud.

I sit silently and alone, forced to listen, forced to be a part of the world and yet still not important in it. I have voice-no power. The harsh wind tore at me and ravaged my body. Pulling at strands of my hair, Yanking my feathers the opposite way from where they sit, and all the while softly curling my hair at the nape of my neck. This causes chills to race down my arms and my nipples to harden.

“A great storm is coming, darling.” I stifled a groan and looked at the devil himself, he leaned lazily, arms crossed, against a large tree. The leather he wears adds to the devil incarnate look he strives for. I say nothing to him and instead gaze upwards at the trees, as their branches swing their leaves in great sweeping arcs in tune to the gail. It’s beautiful in a huanty way. My heart breaks all the more because of it and I bring my gaze down, sick to my stomach. I find him staring at me intensely.

He clears his throat and I continue to say nothing to him. “You know how this ends Elain. Why fight it?” I mull over my options. I can do what is expected of me and spend the rest of my life loathing myself and everyone around me, or I can do something else. The idea begins to take root inside my head. “I get the situation sucks, if you’d just let me he-” I finally snap, “If you want to help me, fuckin leave me in peace.” He looks hurt by my refusal of his help, but nods and turns to leave. “Just so you know,I saw that hope in your eyes just a second ago. If you’re thinking of running, you will be caught. Just don’t be stupid okay? I don’t want to see you be killed.” I sigh and respond, “I died a long time ago, while you stood by and watched and did nothing to stop them from doing it. You’re just as bad as the rest of them.”

He stalks out of the clearing and just like that, he stalks out of my life too. I feel the tears start and I can’t stifle the flow of them as I say my goodbyes. No I do not plan to run, that would indeed be suicidal and I am not to that point just yet. If this plan doesn't work then, well I’ll consider other methods to avoid others controlling my life. It is my hope that all those years of caring for the green life I see around me, that mother nature will save me from my fate.

I start singing, rising and falling with the winds, currently swirling leaves and the grasses around me, as if encouraging me to go on, and so I do. I will continue singing for three days and three nights. On the third night of singing as my body feels less and less like a body and more sturdy. I can see I’ve become less human-like and more like a tree. Upon the fourth day I stop singing, I no longer have a mouth to do so with. All my life I have cared for the lives of those that have no destines and those that have simple needs, and now I shall, in turn be a tree for the rest of days. Living and yet I remain free.


About the author

Mikayla Decker

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