Beast

I’m a good ol’ fashioned Midwest girl. Which means I’ve seen a tornado on two. Usually I’m caught gaping at the murderous monstrosity from a window with my mouth agape, when the panic laden palm of my mother strikes the back of my head. I couldn’t help it. The sound was just so fascinating. The weather man always equated the sound of tornados to a train.

I bite back a laugh.

Trains are docile. Only going in the direction they’re permitted.

This…no this entity was a goddess. Screaming her strength to the heavens. Obliterating anything that dares to stand in your path. The sky literally tore its chest open and bled on the earth. That is how I would describe a tornado.

That sound was nothing compared to the sound of my blood rushing in my ears. Nothing compared to the thunderous roar of my heart pounding in my chest. I’ve never run so fast in my entire life.

How did I get into this mess?

How did I let my desire for recognition land me running for my actual life in the streets of Spain?

Influencer. Sponsorship. Millionaire.

I’d sold my soul to these words. I was willing to do anything and everything to get more views, more likes…more haters. I always had to go bigger and better than everyone else. Somehow, I decided to not just be a fashionista…or a traveling fashionista. I opted to be a travelling daredevil fashionista. I leapt off cliffs in couture gowns. I swung across canyons wearing my red bottoms. I’ve fought in an underground kickboxing match wearing Gucci. But this?

This by far was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.

I glanced behind me in a panic. Hundreds of people were running and screaming in different languages. Bodies were hitting bodies, barricades and bulls.

Yes, you read that right. Bulls.

Here I sprint through the streets of Pamplona in Gucci active wear at the running of the bulls. Sure, some fame seeking influencer may have participated in the running of the bulls, but did they do so in full glam? Likely not. For good reason too.

It’s stupid.

Every day we scroll endlessly on our phones. We navigate a sea of edited pixels instead of taking in the actual three dimensional beauties around us. We compare our actual reality to that of a carefully crafted fabrication. What happened? How did actual reality land on the clearance rack and a lie is sold for millions?

I’ll never find the answer to these questions if I don’t survive this stunt. My legs are moving faster than they ever have. My arms work to propel my body even faster. The thudding of my luxury sneakers is drowned out by the thudding of my heart against my chest. I look back…the beast is getting closer. One man is flung in the air like a toy. His arm contorted in a way it was never meant to.

Keep running. Don’t look back.

I try. I try to only focus on what is in front of me. But my fear beckons me and I glance back once more. The beast is almost upon me. I see the rage in its eyes. The bull is just as disgusted with me as I am myself.

“Don’t you have anything else better to do?” The beast asks.

“I need likes.”

“You need a tangible purpose. You humans really make me sick. You refuse to allow others to enjoy their simple lives. Your endless proliferation is the Earth’s most persistent and disgusting parasite. I’m delighted to rid the World of your kind. Good-bye. No one will miss you. Because no one sees you. They see an illusion, masquerading as your life. Imbecile.” The beast rears its head back.

Time slows to a crawl around me. The streets melt from my vision. The spectators vanish. The other runners fade into nothing. The vacuum of silence fills my ears. There is simply the beast, myself and the darkness. Is this what happens before death? Isn’t my life supposed to flash before my eyes? There’s nothing here.

Nothing.

Is this what my life amounts to?

Nothing.

The horns inch closer to my chest. Please let the end be swift. I have suffered enough. My eyes drift close.

“I’M PULLING YOU OUT!”

My eyes snapped open and I felt what I can only describe as my soul recoiling back into my body. Suddenly I’m staring at myself in the mirror.

Huh?

“I’M PULLING YOU OUT!”

The lights come back into focus. I can hear the ambient music playing in the living room. My limbs are my own again. Dazed and a little afraid, I wander back into the living room where my friend sits, gently swaying to the music and galaxy light.

“You can’t look in the mirror on shrooms. You’ll get lost.”

I can only nod my understanding. I don’t know how to iterate what just happened to me. I lay on the floor. I allow the tears to leak out as a stark realization hits me.

I am the beast.

I make a quiet promise to myself in the safety of my own heart. No more fabricated reality for the sake of my ego. Only life. Only truth. Only living for myself. Only love.

Fin.