V

Here! I found it.

Now I can hide.

The beast coming

will never find me

in this dark cave.

I must now go deeper into it.

Humidity grows

and light is each step dimmer.

Frogs croak, wings fly above…

Darkness seems to play with my eyes

I try to rely on my other senses

It’s when my stomach remembers me

I still have to eat something for the day

My sight’s attempt to adapt to the dark

is as ineffective as a wolf

trying to prey on something by itself

I think I see a-void between the rocky walls

Was that the hemline of someone’s clothes

walking towards what seems to be

an endless, inner part of the cave?

I guess I might have heard steps,

although I did not give it to much of importance

when I only thought I heard it with the left ear

Maybe the noisy silence of this place

is also messing with my head…

I feel scared.

Who is this stranger that hides in there?

I cannot go back now.

It would be too risky.

The shadows are now my best companion,

but am I really safe as I’m surrounded by it?

I press my fingers

against the certainty of Godly-placed rocks

as I decide to go further.

From the ceiling there is a thin waterfall.

I hear the sound of it with my left ear…

but behind this waterfall there is this figure.

It’s a man the same age and height as me.

He contorts himself against the wall, terrified.

The look in his eyes is of complete horror.

I hear a high pitch sound with my right ear.

What the heck is it that is wrong with me?

His breathing is fast.

As I approach the waterfall, I see a reflex on it.

Its nails are huge

and fur covers its body.

There is bloodlust in its eyes

And rage in its clenched canines.

I try to run from it also moving away

into the veils of water falling

from above

only to be hit by a rock

the man was secretly holding.

It hits my left cheek.

I feel as if claws had sliced my right cheek, though.

I can’t dodge his ongoing attacks.

As the rock hits my head I grow dizzier and dizzier,

And feel like vomiting.

I have no more strength to say anything;

not even move…

The only sound I can produce

is a dying growl.

As life comes out of me,

my eyes finally adapt to the dark.

I realize there is only one person here.

Now it’s too late to try to solve

the trichotomy in me.

 

by José Ruy Pimentel de Castro

~ by joseruypc on January 4, 2012.