by Helena Larkin
Imagine an expansive forest and a substantial blue sky stretching over it – larger than the amazon with a million different species some resembling things that you have seen before, like a monkey but its green. Some creatures magical like a hummingbird that is the size of a bee but with a butterfly’s wings, some resembling nothing that you could have ever seen before. But there is something almost malevolent about them, like they could harm you in a variant of ways.
It’s strange here, like that holiday your family took to Cornwall three years ago, it feels formilar but your miles away from home. The people in St. Ives spoke the same language as you but in an accent your dad found hard to understand. He almost got punched when he asked for a pasty. It wasn’t home but it felt like it.
Anyway, back to what I was saying. The forest. It felt familiar but not comfortable, not in the way it looked but in the way it felt. Almost like you were at a different local pub, the food was the same and the people talked like you (but not to you), they had the same Surrey accent, and there were the same characters. But they weren’t the ones you knew so it felt strange.
That’s how this forest you’re in feels, you’ve been here before. The bees that are like humming birds remind you of ones you saw once on faraway holiday. The bee’s remind you of the ones that were in the meadow behind your grannies cottage deep in the Surrey hills. The forest is like a tropical version of the one you went to last week on a country walk with your dad. It was summery and everything felt fresh.
Mid-July. You saw a deer.
I think you were stung by a bee but I can’t remember.
That’s all these humming-bird bees are.
They are not lethal so why would you worry; they are only tiny little birds. They are the size of a bee.
But still, do you take that chance?
A bee can still sting you.
So, you run.
Run.
You run up a steep path of a mountain, that just suddenly appeared in front of you. You are up high. now you can see the forest down below you – but it does not quite seem real –everything almost seems to be alive, even the trees; they almost seem lucid like they are staring at you, their ancient bark has almost twisted into eyes that follow you up the mountain. But not quite – you cannot be too sure. Dedicate your time wisely the day is moving quickly.
The blue sky that was once above you has erupted into the most incredible sunset you have ever seen – almost like one that you saw on some faraway holiday – that you might have thought about before you arrived at this mystically malevolent forest. The sky has turned to a violent violet rage with streams of ethereal clouds running about the sky. All a different shade of coral pink. Or is it orange.
Do you feel cold, or hot – the air is it moist and humid, does the heat cling to you like it does in the rainforest. Or is it dry. Does your mouth sweat when you think?
Why are you thinking about the sky and the air; there is a deadly swarm of bees chasing you.
Run.
Do not look back.
Just run.
Do not think about that wonderful holiday. Just run. Wait no stop running.
You are at the top of the mountain – it’s like you’ve exhausted the day running. The sunsets gone its now a navy dark sky. You cant go any further and the bees seem to have gone.
Buzz.
That is not the bees.
It couldn’t bee. They couldn’t survive up here it’s the top of the mountain.
Buzz.
It is getting louder. Or is it getting closer.
You smell something odd. Can you; can smell them, they smell like a rotting corpse. Now you see a rotting corpse. Did you smell the rotting corpse before? Was he always here? He looks like he has been here for a while, has he been waiting for you? One of his eyes is missing but the one that remains is blue and has clouded over so you cannot be certain that he is looking at you. But is he? He could bee. You move.
Either trying to hide or escape his gaze who knows. Maybe hide from his gaze. But you can’t. The bees have done it once before whose to say that they cannot do it again. But you can’t bee certain. You can’t. it could have been anything that killed him.
There’s a million different things that could harm him (or you) – you should probably hide and stop looking at him.
Stop thinking and hide.
Your screwed anyway.
The bees obviously got him. I mean look at his corpse. Its mangled and distorted. His eye that got taken – it looks like it was ripped for his eye socket, it could have been ripped out by the bees or did it just fall out? And his left arm looks like it was stripped of its flesh. Or maybe it just rotted away, how can you know. You can never bee certain.
Stop thinking and hide.
They’re here.
You can see them they’re bigger now. A lot bigger than a swarm. Maybe you where mistaken before they don’t have a hummingbirds body they have a hawks and the definitely don’t have a butterflies wings, no these are a moths.
Why bother staying.
You know that this might not be real. So why bother staying.
Jump off the mountain, into the malevolent forest.
Fall. Fly.
They can probably fly too.
Just jump.
It’s an easy escape. Feel the humid air that smells almost like leaves after the rain flow over you. Forget the smell of the rotting corpse. Don’t worry this couldn’t possibly be real.
Then wake up. This is my dream not yours.
Wake up in your own bed. With your own thoughts and your own dreams. Wake up as yourself not as me.
Or do you. I mean I made you jump of a mountain; how do you know I can’t do more?
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