Memory

1 04 2015

Memory

By: Kyle Zentmeyer

Moon Blossom, By: Kyle Zentmeyer

Moon Blossom, By: Kyle Zentmeyer


             The earie blue light of the moon flooded in my bedroom window.  The beams of feint light only broken into fragments by the large oak tree outside that I used to climb as a kid.  I rolled over in my bed again, cracking open a single eye only to wince at the glaring red printout on my bed-stand reminding me that time doesn’t stop.  Three-thirty-three AM.

I decided to let my mind wander freely.  I had hoped that by freeing it from its chains of reality that it would quickly find itself safely asleep.  But then the most curious thing happened.  It left.  My minds exit was so abrupt that it managed to rip a whole clean through my reality.  It teared through the room looking for a way out… or maybe it was looking for something to latch on to.  Either way, my mind was now free.

So there I was: Sitting straight up in my bed; startled by the shock of what had just happened.  My thoughts, my memories, my emotions bounced out into my room in every color and shape imaginable.  The light quickly faded as the ideas and dreams of my life settled gently to the floor.  I thought this was it.  This is all that there was to my existence.  Every thought and action that I made now lay in front of me as they quickly faded out of time.  Was this what was to become of me? Everything that I have committed to memory simple faded away, with no one but myself to watch?

I blinked once or twice, hoping that the dream would be over, but there was more… so much more.  The euphoric sense of wonder subsided and I now was in my room again.  But wait, there’s still some memories glowing steadily like embers in a dying fire, flitting through the air quietly.  I could almost see through each one, each time my eye followed one images flashed through the room.  A birthday party, vacation at grandma’s house, walking along the old dirt road with my dad, taking my mom to dinner, playing games with my family, going on hikes with my friends.  Each image cast out onto the walls in plain view.  “These must be the strong ones” I told myself.

The room grew darker, and even the strongest memories grew dim.  And that’s when I felt it.  There were more memories in the room.  They was scratching at the closet door, begging to be released.  But how could I do it? I was the one that put them there.  Locking them away hoping that no one would see.  These memories, the bad mistakes, the missed opportunities, the things that can never be undone that I did, all lying in wait, likely to pounce upon me all at once should I open the door.  I battled there in the corner of the room.  Pulling and tugging at my mind, trying to bring it back in… but it was too late.  The door had been opened.

Unlike the good memories, that floated about in a dazzling display that warmed the heart, these that now lumbered about my room, aimlessly trying to find something to devour, were not light at all.  They were neither black nor white nor any shade in between.  They just were.  Big ugly skeletons, each one with their own disfigured, mangled appearance.  I tried not to make eye contact.  Each glance burned horrible images into my eyes, aching me to my very bones.  I closed my eyes to them and turned away.  What harm were they to bring down upon me? What retribution did they seek? I couldn’t stand the idea of not knowing, so I opened my eyes and looked back.  It still hurt.

These skeletons seemed at first to by mindlessly searching the room.  But then I realized, that they were gathering.  Some of them at the door to the outside, and some at the window, that the moonlight had long since disappeared from.  Curious, I very gingerly crept out from the safety of my bed’s comforter, and tip-toed first to the window.  The beasts that had gathered there seemed to be looking out, completely ignoring my own presence.  I peeked over the shoulder of one exceptionally grotesque one.  I could hear the cries of my little brother as I pushed him to the ground in my childhood emanating from the bones of the thing next to me… I had to turn away.  The one I peered over was different.  Different than the others.  It was less dark, and darker and… well… was less of anything.  It felt… alone.  At first it didn’t make any sound. But as the room grew quieter, this monster now inches from myself, grew almost louder without making a single sound itself.

I looked away again and the things in the room continued about their business, still seemingly unaware that I was watching.  I squinted my eyes as I looked out the window.  And that’s when I saw, that I was not alone.  Thousands — maybe millions of skeletons roamed through the world.  At first I saw them down in my lawn and down on the street, but then I saw across the world, each skeleton wandering around seemingly aimless as my own.  Then one of them, close but not too particularly close looked up.

It stared right past all the monsters of my own, and looked at me.  It was not close, nor particularly far.  It was at my window staring down at me with its big blank eyes.  I couldn’t see it, but unlike my own, there was nothing to be felt.  I didn’t understand it but I felt like it was calling out to me.  Was it another skeleton I was about to add to my disheveled collection of my own? I felt as though I wanted to reach out to it.  I put my hand up to the icy window pane, nearly against my own will.  A chill went down my back.  Then I felt something else move again.

From behind me, a creature I knew all too well… slowly reached out over me.  The darkest of them all.  A memory so deep that it’s become an emotion of its own.  I tried to scream in terror, fearing that this was the end.  As it reached the skeleton on the other side of the glass also reached out, mirroring the shadow behind me.  They touched together, where my hand had now been frozen in place with fear.  I gritted my teeth and shut my eyes hard.  If only I hadn’t reached out.

I opened my eyes again.  All the monsters at my window had gone… or… at least they didn’t seem to matter now.  There, on the other side, where a looming shadow once stood, was another person.  Not a whole lot like me, but somehow, I knew this person.  I knew a little of what it was like to be them.  Not all of them.  But I understood part of what ran deep through them… and through me.  I smiled, and they smiled back.  Their smile exploded into a glorious array of light.  Not terrifying, but intense.  It filled my room with memories that I have not yet known.  Each one more brilliant than the next.  Most of them were good, and burned bright and strong.  But it wasn’t over.

I heard a bump behind me.  I turned with a start to see that the rest of my skeletons, still cutting through me like a knife when I looked, leaning against the door.  On the other side I heard shouting, and crying, and could smell the death of the world trying to break through.  More mistakes, more heartache, lurched at its seams.  My skeletons still hideous and unbearable in their own right were pushing back now.  They held strong at the gate to what was now my fortress.  All of my past sins were now pushing back the tide of more trying to enter in.  They had barricaded my soul up to any more out.  These were the skeletons that I had locked away.

The skeletons faded.  The battle had been won for now.  I crawled back into my bed, as the light from my memory filled the room, and colors of every sort danced about me.  “What was to become of these memories?” I wondered.  And as I wondered this a figure glided through my room.  From out of nowhere, the same person that I had met through the window was now pacing about.  And then more figures, all of whom I recognized came in, each going about looking at each of my memories.  The person from my window looked fondly at one that only moments earlier they had created.  They reached out and plucked it from the air, took half of it, and placed it in their pocket.  The other half floated back into the room, unusually brighter than before.  As each character in the room partook in my memory, each light grew brighter and brighter, until there wasn’t a thing to be seen but a blinding light, so beautiful and warm, it made everything else in the room insignificant.  The guitar, the computer, the bed, the walls themselves, all seemed to fade away at the corners of the ever growing light.

My eyes opened once again.  Three-thirty-three AM.  The earie blue light of the moon flooded in my bedroom window.


Thank you for reading.

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One response

2 04 2015
Buffy Zentmeyer

Wow! Really great imagery!

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