the Guilt of Blame

The air is a bit heavy and wet, the echo of my quick yet careful steps wanders before me and behind. My unstable looking fast-paced walk may concern a bystander. But I am far from worried. Submerged in a shapeless dark space, a place I have never seen and only have known as this. It soon became the focal point of my days, especially since I have been here on my own. Starting as a tunnel, quickly evolving into an endless mash of blinding silence and shadows within shadows. Alone yet far from lonely I take advantage of the vast space and expand as much as I possibly can. My mind grows exponentially, and my thoughts slow down due to the longer travel. I give up who I am, happily sending it to the unknown depths around. Never knowing whether everything comes back once I decide to return and fearless of the outcome. I would hardly notice any change and there is nobody else to tell me.

There’s no way to know for how long I have been walking or how much of a distance I have travelled until now. Time is pointless when there is nowhere to be, when returning means nothing. However, I always naturally reach a point and turn around, starting my journey back to the castle and objects with definitive contours. The switch clicks again. Like changing the direction of a spaceship, with my arms widespread trying to prevent a collision, while my torso is rotating, and the body continues in the initial direction. Walking back has a similar feel to it but everything happens in reverse. Walls coming out of nowhere shrinking and pushing my existence back to its limited shape. A process that is surprisingly not uncomfortable. Like leaving a warm bath, but the air around is not cold either and the towel is just the right temperature. All that but with no light, no water and less textile.

Unlike almost everything that is happening and happened around me, I never manage to maintain a background that puts the tunnel in place. I’ve made stories about each redundant room, a brief list of events that lead to the appearance of the single chair I own. A little longer note of mine debates the reasons why, there is no one left. I tried to come up with something countless times, but whatever I created fell apart during the next visit. The description of the entrance stays unchanged but everything after that is crossed with frustrated black lines. Every word I add is due to removal the very next minute. Telling myself it is the research not the pleasure, I come again. Returning to the well with more money and losing it all exchanged for an empty feeling of foggy satisfaction. But no answers.

Pleasantly hungry I pass the only check point I have ever found around here as I am walking out. I know there is not that much left. An exit sign and its green light hanging above my head telling me that either way I pick, I will be able to escape. And I must agree to some extent. Depending on what am I running away from.

Everything works. The house does not need fixing, my body is low maintenance. No reason to think about any of the things I used to when they were here. Considerably a happy person, I would not change much. That moderate tastelessness my existence turned into is somewhat exciting. Having been given my dreams, I take advantage of what is offered guilt-free. I, my own mentor and servant, the convicted and the prosecutor. I am a game with unclear rules built on denial and imagination. My may seem empty, but I never feel bored. Always on a journey. Floating through the vacant property or staring at a wall. Screaming my eyes out from the window and acting like seeking the truth for which I planted the false answers beyond the horizons. Still, I always find myself coming back. Confronted by the fear of infinity and lack of control of the world that’s hidden inside and myself within it.

The room after the entrance is well-lit. Several big windows allow me to look around and spot the sun in the middle of its journey and up at the top of the sky. So much space for improvement, room to expand, but there is little for me to strive for. Deconstructed, in a pleasurable pain I want to go back but know I must go to bed. Block everything around. The heat, the singing birds or anything else that affects me in the current vulnerable state. A very old dog barks again in the depths of my head and I am forced to turn away from the overwhelming reality that won’t stop talking about its artificial foundations. Leaving the room and finally resting in bed, the wildlife goes to sleep, as the sun runs away with my closing eyelids. Everything dies with my perception. The wind doesn’t blow anymore and windows in the nearby village darken.

The flow of the forced night-time is rarely disrupted. I would have to go far back in my memories and dig though many half-lived days to discover an occurrence like this. Yet there is the sound that triggered my senses and dragged the sun back from its cave. A brief period of denial and a weak attempt to stifle everything are abandoned shortly after the next grumble that shook the whole building. Stumbling out of my bed I try to navigate through the corridors of the castle and determine the location of the source. Coming from the lower levels of the building I am far from surprised when the leads direct me right in front of the entrance to the tunnel.

Unsure whether I should hesitate more or think the situation through more, I enter. The night within the tunnel strips me down. Layer after layer, with each step, every barrier keeping my insides in place gets weaker. The haunting dog is getting louder, and I begin to go faster while spitting out the burning sunlight I absorbed ages ago. My surrounding avidly inhales every sight of brightness and feeds of the excess energy exploding in its largeness. Past the sign, I fly and swim and fall. None of my senses can tell the direction or my position. The eruption is as strong as ever, when the last restraining peel happens, pushing all the buttons and whispering all the words I need to hear. But sadly, there is no time to indulge in any of that because the next grumble, shaking everything, reinforces my focus. Cutting the suddenly sticky ties I push further, harder every time I am closer. Then it stopped. The pause stretches farther shifting my movements from unnoticeable to alarmingly loud. The urge to run fast fades with the dying echo and I start feeling unprotected. Not much of my surroundings is to be absorbed, but I am almost certain I got further than ever before, frantically searching for the presence of someone else. The growing fear flooded the place, and I am now submerged in a body of water with a stream strong enough to affect my movement. Should I turn and push back or follow the dissipating reason I came here for? I don’t have to wait too long for an answer. The floor recessed suddenly making it difficult to keep my head above the surface and I crush into a wall. The encouraged current continues underneath and continuously tries to carry my unstable body with it. I am scared to follow into its depths and fight with the fluid. With palms sliding on wet stones, I throw myself opposite the current and desperately kick my legs to find support. After several attempts and a few frightening skids, I manage to find another wall and the floor almost immediately after. Retracing my previous decisions, I follow the uneven surface, ignoring the intrusive sensation of reality I have never felt when at this place. Undefeated but mildly disappointed, I leave. The green light reliably approves my privileges, and I am looking outside the window again, allowing myself to wallow in another mistake. The sunlight plays with the shades of green covering the surrounding hills. A calm day that came earlier than it should have and will be over in a few moments.

Reading became both a friend and an enemy that kills time just efficiently enough for me to forgive all the worlds it promises. There is no favourite genre, often find myself staring at a blank page, but there’s always something happening in front of my eyes. I sleep a lot. With only myself to talk to, I fuel my dreams with pictures that combine my family and realities collected from the abandoned pages. Going from one room to another, closing windows and curtains, I hear another noise. This time coming from the above. The furniture upstairs is being moved and random doors use their hinges after a long break. Have I reached a point from where I cannot come back? Has my mind expired, has the lease of the house ended and I now will be with other people again?

Running up two sets of stairs while I see nothing out of the ordinary. Then another door close and a short person stands not far away from me. She is looking at me, strangely resembling the appearance of my younger sister. The same door opens once more, and my parents look at me the same way my younger sibling does. None of them looks surprised to see me, but their movements are careful and faces a bit too stiff. Holding my sister’s shoulders, they create an annoyingly perfect model for a family portrait. I love them and I know they love me. Still, I am not keen on being served such an image. I liked my freedom. The worry of losing it powers my escape. My sister takes off after me and I restrict my arms form the instinctively open gesture, moving away from them.

Their actions are as unorganised as I remember. Every muffled noise brings back all the reasons and the plot of the story covering what happened when they first went away makes sense again. The curtains are closed, my body is merely a vague contour under a light blanket. The world is slowing down with my breath and the sun is gasping for a few last inhales before it is switched off. The steps went away too, and no empty dishes are being endlessly moving around. Everything goes away and disconnects. Everything but the grumble that came back to find its way into my sleep. Like a tiger playing with its prey, it brushes off the fight my fatigue attempts. Disrupted dreams full of flashing images, fast cars and shouting ultimately result in me waking up again.

Eyes opened to the unusually dark room. The process became too abrupt and much more energy is now needed for everything to start quickly enough and prepare. What a draining process it became. I wish to sleep, give my broken body a piece of rest yet the stones in the walls resonate with the vibration that is impossible to ignore. Without hesitation I go to the ground floor and just briefly look out the window at the sweating nature struggling to execute my new orders. First sun beams touch the floor and give the space a sense of life, when my parents and sister right behind, rush from the rectangle. Both adults try to pull me away, but I resist their efforts and free myself from the uncomfortable grips. My sister slightly brushes my hip as I dodge her hurrying body. I must run in the opposite direction. That is what the grumble tells me.

‘No, don’t go there!’ My father spoke up for the first time. And I feel disappointed by the opening sentence.

Swallowed by a vision of a quest, I go through all the phases the tunnel has to offer. Air that feels like water and water that acts more like the air. I have no patience for the intrusive emotions. An objective pushing me further leads me to the same stream and in front of the same wall. Floating in the water and drowning in wasted adrenaline, I fight my way back in a similar fashion to the last visit. Disappointed, embarrassed, I avoid three figures standing by the wall.

‘Aren’t you hungry?’

What a disheartening reunion with relatives who are supposed to be the closest. There is no food in the house, and I couldn’t care less for the redundant question my mother just whispered. Their behaviour does a bad job at covering what happened which is frustrating. Why would they act like nothing happened, as if I didn’t force them into hiding? They gave the role of the person locking the door to somebody else and out of nowhere the weighing responsibility is missed on my shoulders. No desire to spend time talking and I happily let go of the chance to deconstruct the story I assigned to each one of them. Truth lost its appeal a long time ago. With the first tale I realised how subjective the perception of the world is. Leaving the question hang in the air I pace to the front door and stare outside. Suffocating heat pours through the portal still, without much thought, I step outside. The grit crunches under my bare feet. Ignoring its temperature or its uncomfortable shapes, I obey the direction of the path to the end of the premises.

Their eyes are drilling holes into my back the whole time. I know they are standing in the shadow just by the entrance. Hidden enough to be barely visible with a perfect view of the area. Sensing their pain, I do not feel remorseful, nor do I know how to help them.

‘Wait!’ telling me what to do, my mother’s voice sounds shaky, fearful and fades as soon as it reaches me. But I don’t bother turning my head to respond or even offer a confirmation that I had heard what she said. I am already on my way out. That's what I used to do. A small hill ahead offers a misty horizon and the unclear picture of the village I am walking to appears just above it.

Entering does not make any difference. With people looking out of their windows and children hidden behind tall fences the place is empty. I can hear and see them, but there is no way to approach them. A bittersweet feeling splashing in my veins. Knowing, and enjoying that they fear me and feeling alone because of it. Didn’t expect much and that is exactly what I got. The day feels longer than it should, and the honest uneventful place doesn’t help to change how bad I suddenly feel. Thinking of leaving, a kid passes me. Not rushing but still walking faster than I am currently capable of, it heads towards the hill in the centre. An open door swallows the tiny body with me following closely. As soon as I approach the entrance, I see the child stood just a few steps into the hill. Its face doesn’t suggest anything. A pair of surprisingly lively eyes and limbs that don’t seem to move. I don’t care about it. The presence of another human being gave me a short-lived dose of excitement. Now I wouldn’t be bothered following anyone else. A wave of unlikeable confidence splashes over me and with no regards to myself or anyone else I walk deeper.

The entrance closed as soon as I was out of reach. The disappearing light took away the confident mask and the few steps that lead me to plummeting were not as finely defined. Holding my breath while fighting for air with the overwhelming amount of water that out of nowhere filled the space around me. Pinned against a wall and pulled underneath it at the same time, my weakened arms struggle. Every step is slowly executed and accompanied by yet another exhausted shiver as the energy level depreciates rapidly. Without a general sense of direction, I only know I must keep walking. And soon enough the green light comes. A remote shade turning into an object as sharp as it always has been. With me getting closer a new sensation emerges. The dog is barking in the back of my head, I smell the grass from the lawn in front of the house and my eyes hurt from the sun that is not present. My existence is being put together while the first step of deconstruction has been skipped. I feel heavier with every step. As if I was carrying a second self I collapse on the hot floor. Too hot. Everything. I see outside. I see the room and the door that is darker that it was before and the glass of the windows that is trying to escape the frames. I don’t see any member of my family around but can hear my father’s distant cry. I am surprised and listen to him briefly although, his pain is very low on my list of concerns. Everything is hot to touch. It is difficult to breath and to my own surprise the thought of hiding in the tunnel isn’t appealing at all. For the first time I do not want to return. But regardless of that I know I will be coming back soon. My burning body painfully turns. A few embarrassing tears find their way across the skin of my cheeks. Pushed away by pain and heat they look for freedom as much as I look for a shelter. My skin makes an uncomfortable squeaking noise as I crawl back to the flat relief. Looking back, I can see the three silhouettes begging me to stay or take them with me. Although it only happened in the story I projected on the ceiling of the forcefully abandoned rooms, I refuse to change my point of view. They took too much from me. I hear something fell, and my sister’s voice suddenly cut through my body that already started to crumble. That noise is going to stay in every piece of my flesh forever and will patiently remind me to paint this moment over with a new – brighter - picture.

Despite being carried, I still land in the water exhausted after a seemingly endless ride. The cool liquid splashes with the power of the next grumble that came out of nowhere, and calms my skin, giving it finally a sense of relief that immediately swings to fatigue. As soon as I can, I try to float, determined to obey the flow and dive with no regards how long may I spend underneath. Nervous but excited, scared, and curious, my toes briefly touch the well-known wall before my body is, headfirst, sucked deeper.

After a short ride I appear above the surface in a cave that is surprisingly evenly built and clean. The space ends several tens of metres in front of me, where the river is leaving through a smaller exit. That is also the single source of light. Another roar confirms the presence yet the kid walking towards me seems unperturbed by the place. It looks like the one I met in the village, but I am certain this is somebody else. Pacing from end to end, it ignores my arrival. I use all that’s left in me to pull myself on the same ramp. Avoiding me because I lay across its path, the kid touches the wall behind my back and then steps over me again walking away. Back and forth creating a concerning cycle of motions that lead nowhere.

It takes a while before I can move again. The fear and lack of rest drain me on top of the burning world outside. A disaster still connected to my own sources and its gradual implosion stem from within my chest. My confidence crumbles with every next reminder that I am not alone. Sitting, facing the far and the end of the chamber, I can finally see it. It is standing above the river. Long hairy legs and a broad chest that melts into the surroundings. It’s huge and not alone. There are more giant heads popping from behind the first silhouette creating a bizarre shadow play. Terrified but fascinated I start screaming. Calling them names and throwing my gummy limbs around imitating a laugh-worthy fight. Unsure what I was presenting or the goal of it all, I only got another grumble in response after which they dissolve into the light. We are alone again.

-

They come and go. The creatures, their silhouettes, to be exact, show up and disappear from time to time. Sometimes they seem bigger and closer, but they never pay attention to me or the child which is persistently pacing. At one point I think it started crying and I can now see the fear in the round face. But I’m too tired, worried too much about myself to even think about helping it. I am trapped the same way. It has been a while since I entered and still, I see no way out or a viable option for my next steps. I wish to fall asleep, but this place won’t let me.

My mind still has not adjusted to my current condition and I am reminded of that in the very moment I drop to the freezing madness like a stone. Only the remaining fumes of my survival instinct help me to find access to air and float on the current. What I initially intended was to swim back under the wall and back to where I came from. However, I am no match to the water and find myself away from my starting position within seconds. Somehow, I manage to reach the shore and accompanied by loud splashes of my kicking legs I get up on the shiny tiles. The terrifying visuals grew bigger as the river got me closer. I hate myself for avoiding what is now obviously inevitable and at the same time refuse to accept that as the outcome.

I wait, I count, and I think. Each task takes me closer to the uncomfortable decision and closer to the end of my resources. But hesitation leads nowhere, and their appearance is unpredictable. With that and several instant regrets in mind I dive once more. Despite the strength of the current, the kid easily keeps up with me walking on the left side of the river. We are still far from the other wall when I notice that it had not been pacing the entirety of the shore. It turned around and is now walking away. Its small shoulders are shrugged, and I can still hear it sobbing audibly. The bland taste of a small wave closes my surprised mouth. Disheartened by the abrupt end of the imaginary bond I start seeking a place to get on the floor again. I am closer than intended when I finally stop myself from moving. Not for long though as my fingers slip and I continue towards the open mouth. They are watching. I see two heads in the rectangle that is much darker from up close. Empty holes where their eyes should be turned in the general direction of my struggle. They are taller than I hoped they would be, disturbingly human-like with features borrowed from a mix of other creatures. The intimidating image of symmetry peels away and I uncontrollably fall in the middle of it.

Entering another tunnel makes me hopeful and desperate at the same time. Everything goes pitch black and I can hear nothing but my shallow breath and the kid, with water occasionally reminding of its presence. Then I am pulled up arranged on the side with my feet still submerged in the water. I didn’t feel anybody touching me, merely could notice who helped me and whether it was an act of help or an ill-motivated decision. I am lost. Lost in the place and lost in my own tales I tangled my reality into.

‘Come on! Come closer and deal with me! What are you waiting for?!’

Surprised by my own audacity and voice I continue screaming trying to boost my ego. A desperate attempt resulting in nothing but silence. Frozen in place I inhale the silence that waited for me. No roars or steps to be heard, yet they stand right next to me. Knowing they are there everything inside of me melts. Of course, it was them who lifted me up and I just screamed right in their face. In a strange sensational way, I can see them. Disarmed by my immaturity and exhausted, I create an imaginary eye contact. Then I give in to their preponderance and give up on every other aspect. Losing interest in exploring and admitting to living as a pointless loop. The expression has changed. The mouth that finally fully rendered in my view, the mouth just by my neck, is closing slowly with the face expression shifting from aggression and revengeful pain to disappointment. The light around is coming from the distance and growing stronger. It is not as bright and sparkly as it looked earlier. Its underwhelming grey shine enlightens everything around and gives the walls and creatures a strangely flat appearance. The emerging emptiness swallows all the emotions and flavour life had moments earlier. The creatures turned away from me and are slowly walking away before they collapse to the river that carries their bodies out of my sight. Nothing about their corpses looks threatening or three-dimensional.

I am alone. The sobbing faded away from the cave and two little feet don’t pace the floor anymore. Hanging in the air motionlessly the kid is imprisoned in its own layer of existence that got eaten by my poor decisions. The weight is off my shoulders, I can run and do whatever I want. But I have no desire to move at all. The world around lost its depth. Walking back there are no issues or obstructions. No feeling unleashed within the now ordinary-looking tunnel I used to enjoy. Uninspired by the dry water or the visible air I pass the three bodies floating in it. None of that fazes me. I knew they would follow me here, but I never needed them, and this place wasn’t suitable for their survival. At the beginning there were six of us. I wasn’t a good son nor the best brother to any of them. Perhaps I could do better next time if I ever feel like going through this again.

The sign is melting, turning into a piece of plastic that didn’t pull through my reign. Gone is the carpet as well as the main door to the house. The grass around the gravel path is black and brown. Partly burned by the sun and partly destroyed by the fire that is heading away from the property. This time without hesitation, I leave the house. Stepping over dead trees and still burning birds beneath the collapsing sky, I follow in the steps of destruction. The sun is gone, everything is covered by the awful grey. Everything apart from the green fire. As if it escaped from the exit sign and was trying to lead me one last time.

Exhausted I follow towards the village, knowing what is waiting for me. All the people gathered on top of the hill that has no entrance in its side anymore. They are holding each other and look at me over the wall of fire before they disperse in a ball of screaming black smoke. It is the last thing I see. The houses are gone as well as the hills. My legs are too trying to escape my twisted morals, turning into a sturdy grey surface. Losing their shape and purpose, the torso follows quickly. I don’t remember why I came here, but I almost certainly failed. Assigned tasks are left unfinished, although I tried. Raised on subjectivity and indulging in my flaws, choking on the overwhelming freedom I took from others; my energy is entirely drained and the overloaded mind of mine switched off.