Quriosity

I used to live in the historical centre of my town, which in retrospect I found was a very dangerous thing to do. Not everybody agrees with me though, since that part of town is considered by most of the people I know to be a safe area, full of retired old ladies, boring as they say. Well that is not my experience. Not in the last week anyway.

But let’s take it from the start because I don’t have much time.

A few days ago I was walking through this old neighborhood, strolling as someone from a past era would say since nowadays everybody seems to have a definite purpose when walking, when I saw this beautiful old mansion completely covered by flowers and vine-like vegetation.

The two storey building was as if it emerged through a fairy tale forest with only its tile rooftop disclosing its real identity. This pulsating puzzle of colors, scents and the buzzing sound of beeslay amidst the greyest part of town.

I was intrigued. I had to know who the owner and caretaker of this garden was. Luck was on my side because at that moment a lady was coming out of the house next door.

“Excuse me. Good afternoon Ms. Would you mind telling me whose house this is?” I asked.

“No one has lived in this house for 7 years young man” she replied. “The owner passed 7 years ago and since then the place has been empty”.

“Do you know who is responsible for this beautiful garden”?

“But Life of course. Who is responsible for you”? Now if you don’t mind I am late for afternoon mass”, she told me and left in a hurry.

What a weird old lady I thought to myself. And what kind of answer was that? Not to mention the weird hat. Her hat was an old cloche like yellow hat with a crescent moon on it.

I watched her disappearing in the narrow streets but I could swear her scent would not leave me. A smell that took me back to a childhood memory of a day when me and my best friend at the time had sneaked into an underground cave in a nearby forest. We were living our adventure without realizing that the light entering the cave through a small hole in the ground was our only link to reality and if by any chance that hole seized to exist we should remain in an alternate darker reality.

As I was ready to move on, I saw a one-eyed cat climbing up the vines and entering the house from an open window. I don’t know what got into me but I had to learn more about this garden cultivated by “life”. Without hesitation I followed the cat. Fortunately the ledge was wide enough so I stepped on an old air condition box that was under the window and with the help of the thick thorny vines I managed to step on the ledge and from there I sneaked inside.

I was inside. A thorn from the vines scratched my elbow as I was trying to get through the window and a small blood stain was on my shirt. My heart was racing and I began to feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins. “So this is what a burglar feels”, I thought. “What a rush”.

The inside was the complete opposite from the vibrant garden outside. There was no light whatsoever and the whole place had an intense musty smell. The only furniture in the ground floor was a big library besides the wooden staircase. The books were old leather-bound and they seemed to be Arabic or Hebrew. As I approached I saw this picture on the library. Within the old silver frame there was a black and white picture of a young girl. She was all dressed up with a laced garment and she was wearing a weird hat. A hat with a crescent moon on it.

I put the picture back in its place making sure that no one could ever detect my first B&E attempt.

“What the f… are you doing” I thought to myself. “You can end up in prison for this”. The irritating voice of reason inside my head was right. I had to get out of there. As my little adventure was coming to an end I heard a loud noise coming from the second floor. The absence of any other sound transformed this abrupt knock as if its gravitational pull was guiding my steps towards it.

I tried to tiptoe up the stairs, only to realize that the squeaking noise from the wooden floor was sabotaging my attempts. In front of me there was a corridor with a closed door at the end. I reached for the door knob. The door opened. I looked for a light switch but there was no electricity. Fortunately my Smartphone had a flashlight app which in a way brought me back to the present.

Except for a wooden chest in a corner the room seemed empty. I was unsure whether to open the chest or to listen to the voice in my head which by this point was screaming “get out now”.

The one eyed cat that led me into this mess in the first place came running from the door. She threw herself at my feet and started rolling around for attention. I bent over to pet only to get my hand scratched violently. The cat gave me a diabolic stare and slowly walked towards the chest. She seated in front it as if she was calling for me to open it.

I remembered a TV documentary I had seen about cats in ancient Egypt. Apparently there cats were worshipped as gods. The voice of reason inside my head was getting louder and louder. I should stopped this madness and get outside. But I couldn’t dismiss a deity’s wish…

I had decided. I was going to open the wooden chest as per the one eyed goddess’s instructions. The walk to the chest was endless. Within the deafening silence of the room I could hear my heart beating like a shamans drum.

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Finally, I was there and then I saw it. The golden emblem of a crescent moon.

I leaned forward to look inside and then it happened.

I felt like being sucked into a tunnel and my whole life flashed in front of me. Vivid memories of my past rushed rapidly in front of me and then an abrupt standstill. Like the flushing of a toilet. All the shit you didn’t know you remembered.

I don’t know how long that whirlpool lasted or how far it had taken me. I woke up not knowing whether I had been out for an hour, a day or a week. I felt numbness throughout my body and I had shortness of breath. There was complete darkness and my nostrils where burning from dust.

What was going on? And where was I?

Of course there was no answer. I was alone somewhere dark and I could feel dirt on my hands. I tried to push myself up but hit a ceiling. I only had room to kneel and that wasn’t very helpful. I was lying covered in dirt in a tight box like a coffin. I lied down thinking that this was a dream or a practical joke but either way it would have been over soon. I guess denial always precedes despair and anger.

After a while I was surprised by my inability to sit still. Being an extremely idle person I thought I could just lie there. But that was not the case. Not more than an hour passed and I was in hell. I was aching all over my body. Acute pain in my joints and back alternated with a numbness sensation. The pain in my body was increasing as every second passed and even though I felt cold I began sweating.

And as for the real cauldrons of hell. Well those where inside my head and they were burning overtime. Thought after thought passed behind my closed eyelids, carving an absurd map of reality. One, I strived to understand but to no avail.

I was on the verge of insanity. By that time I was breathing pretty fast. I decided I was going to use my breath as the ball of thread of Ariadne guiding me out of this mentally created labyrinth. I started noticing my breath. Unsuccessfully at the beginning as I was attracted to the fables of my mind. But slowly I calmed down and I could follow the sound of my heart. My breath was getting slower and slower.

Just before entering into hibernate mode I remembered my phone. Yes, that was it. I could call someone to come and take me out of this nightmare. Explaining all of this would not be easy but that was something I would worry about later.

I reached for my pocket, took the phone and opened the flashlight. I dialed the number of a friend, crazy enough to rescue me out of this mess but apparently mobile carriers had no reception in hell.

I was doomed. I realized that if this box-hole-shitty place I was confined in had closed completely then it was a matter of time for the oxygen to run out.

I slowly managed to turn and then I saw the bones laying there in the dirt and a crescent moon with an engraving on the top of the box.

“From moon to sun, From Death to life”.

I closed my eyes. The picture of Ouroboros came to mind. The ancient symbol depicting a serpent or dragon eating its own tail.

The old lady was right.

Life…

Now my battery is running low as I am writing this message. I can feel my breath getting weaker and weaker. I cannot concentrate. I am tired and desperately want to close my eyes.

I think I am dreaming.

In the distance I can hear the sound of a santoor playing while the sun and moon are dancing.

A story by Melip

Originally published at Literary Shaman.