Things That Grow

Things That Grow

A Story by Rana
"

a drizzle of disorders

"
He could feel his heart trying to pump all the blood from the body to his quivering mouth. The door was pushed shut with a resounding bang.
"You won't be by my side that day, when I'll need you most. Leave me."
He ignored the incessant fist-shattering knocks. Bottles, where were the bottles? Cabinets, tables, bags: negative. He buried his fingers into the curls of his brown hair and pulled fiercely. His breathing grew haphazard. Covering his damp face with his palms, he let himself drop to the floor. Wherever you go, there you are. Wherever you go, there you are. Wherever you go, there you are. Calm. It's fine, it's ok. Calm. The knocking had ceased. Dylan lay unconscious behind the locked door.

She is smiling while she speaks. There is no one around us, just some starving earthworms on the dry, parched crack-decorated barren earth. The sky is changing colors from shades of yellow to those of brown. She is frowning while she shakes me. I can't hear her. I can't feel her. I am asleep. She is trying to cover me in her overcoat. Giving it up, she just snuggles close to me to keep me warm. It is not long before she begins to shiver. I have lost all of my heat and along with it the capacity to absorb and retain any heat. She is crying now. The sleep I'm sleeping is so powerful that it can begin to rot my organs if I don't wake up. I have begun to emit the sleep-smell, but it won't be long before I open my eyes, I want to tell her. What is stopping me? People materialize from nowhere. Three men are digging away at the earth with spades and I want to tell them it will be of no use, obviously the land can't support vegetation. There are no clouds, more people appear. I can hear a lot of silent sobs and sounds of gloom. Everyone is awake but me? Before they can put the lid on the box they've put me inside, I leap right out and push them away angrily. Except, I don't? What's happening? What have I done to deserve such heartless treatment? I don't want to be buried. Stop, I can't breathe, I can't breathe, I can't.

After his eyes open from the panic, for a moment, he is grateful for the spaciousness of his little room and can feel the pleasure that comes from taking deep breaths. Then he hears his mother call his name, ever so lovingly, and he breaks down.
"We're all going to die one day! No, oh please, no", tears travel down his face.

Trapped in the reality, his brain in times of the obsession-bouts feels unable to accept the inevitable cessation to be normal and right or justified. It's a dark place, but that's not the worst thing about it. Solution, there must be some kind of a solution. Sitting on the edge of his bed with his head bowed and resting on his hands, he makes no attempt to avoid the thoughts.
"But why does death exist? Why do things have to begin and end? What's the point then?"
"It is a world that runs on time that demands ends."
"Maybe if I understand time, I will understand death. "
"What do I say, it's like our world is soaked wet in time and I'm wishing I could experience how it would feel like to be dry."
"More like, drenched in it. My brain can't imagine a world where time does not exist."
"But what makes it so fundamental? Time is because change is? Or change is because time is?"
He shifted a bit, lifted his head and then let it rest on his right palm. The fingers curled up into a loose fist.
"Time changes. Changes happen with time. And the brain can perceive change only in terms of time and space."
"Then, if everything remained same and still, with no day no night no motion, would it mean 'no time'?"
"Oh but my body will keep time. It's a clock, circadian. I can hear my heart ticking inside me. There is no hope.."
"I was born just so I could die one day", fresh teardrops find their escape.

You are a machine. But, reality is relative.
He blinked, frowned a little and listened passively. Reality isn't the world around you, reality is within your head. People live in the same world but in different realities.
Analyze what's common to your realities. The colors you see, the shapes and sounds. Your brain morphs all information from your surrounding into something you can make sense of. Everything is just a continuous arrangement of molecules. Limited ranges of perceivable stimuli, more is hidden than shown.
"What are the curtains that hide what I can't see? Oh will death actually lift those curtains?"
He closed his eyes.
Don't you know, death marks the end of existence, it's not a transition to another reality. Because energy can only manifest itself through matter and life is essential for consciousness the way body is essential for life.
Dylan opened his eyes, faintly alarmed. Something seemed wrong. There was something about the thoughts that made him feel they weren't his own.

"Oh, you finally sense it", the words came into his head just like his own did. He instinctively turned around, just in time to catch a glimpse of the sophisticated wispy black gingerbread-man shaped smoke escaping through the window on the wall behind him.

© 2016 Rana


Author's Note

Rana
Please tell me about the flaws you found and what you thought?

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Reviews

thanks for this fantastic story, good luck in my competition

Posted 2 Months Ago


This was a fun read which keeps the reader interested on this journey through an odious topic.

Posted 6 Months Ago


Rana

6 Months Ago

Thank you, your words are a little packet of encouragement :)
Death is sleeping on the proverbial surrealistic pillow...

Posted 10 Months Ago


Rana

10 Months Ago

Hmm :)
A very good reflection on time and death and how we all perceive our unique realities that differ in size and scope. For instance, insane people see a completely different one from sane ones. Rich people see it different from the poor and so forth. Conditions amplify or decrease realities as well as perceptions. Then we act differently accordingly. You give us a great sense of things...:)................................

Posted 2 Years Ago


Rana

2 Years Ago

Yes, so right, thanks much Sami! :)
Sami Khalil

2 Years Ago

You are welcome compellingly. ....::::))))
What a fantastic piece of surreal fiction, definitely one of my favorites.
You brought up a lot of things that humans often times try to forget about - death, time, perception of reality - and the way you organized them together flowed very well.
Like Joey K said, the imagery is great and I liked the first-person/third-person feeling you created.
"Trapped in the reality, his brain in times of the obsession-bouts feels unable to accept the inevitable cessation to be normal and right or justified." - my favorite sentence
What were intentions with the last paragraph?
Great job!




Posted 2 Years Ago


Rana

2 Years Ago

:) You're always so wonderfully encouraging, thanks a lot much Gaston. The last paragraph, i tried t.. read more
Gaston Villanueva

2 Years Ago

You're welcome!
Explained with eloquence, thanks!
Rana

2 Years Ago

Haha :)
I like this story a lot. It gives a different lively image about death and how it effects the people around you. It also has a good yet weary sense of time and has great imagery. I like this a lot. I read it a couple times. I like these short stories.

Posted 2 Years Ago


Rana

2 Years Ago

Thanks so much Joey, that's really delightful! :)

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Added on October 12, 2016
Last Updated on October 12, 2016
Tags: thanatophobia, time, thought-insertion, ocd

Author

Rana
Rana

About
Yay! hello :) I have a butterfly net that sweeps in ideas fluttering in my head. I like to write just as much as i like to read and i began writing fiction in 7th grade. But the first thing i ever wr.. more..

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