WIP2

WIP

 Knowledge is power. A belief I have always held. I learned this at the age of fifteen. Adam was a tall, well-built guitarist. He wore cologne even though he was only sixteen. A year older than me. I used to watch him play one of the school's old guitars and then I would pick it up and play when he left. It smelled just like him. My heart had yearned for him for two years. Our school had a music camp one year. It was a five-hour drive down South. Albany. A smaller, rainier Perth with crisper and cleaner air. I listened to his favourite music the whole bus ride there. For three days we played music in nursing homes to people with arthritis and Alzheimer's disease. Adam always sat in the row in front of me. When he played the solos his bleached waves would dance just above his broad shoulders in time to the music. Queen. Crazy Little Thing Called Love. The rest of the ensemble would click in time to the music. On the fourth day of the camp there was a quiz night. We all had free time while the teachers and a few of the students made up the questions and answers. They were all about music. It was me and my closest friends at the time talking in our cabin. Chloe wasn't there. She was helping with the quiz. I didn't realise at the time, but Adam was also helping with the quiz.

 It was pouring outside and cold inside. Everybody had either a cup of tea or hot chocolate. The dining hall was set up like a classroom. We all sat in groups. Looking up at the front of the room, I saw Adam and Chloe standing next to each other. She was leaning on him. He had his arm around her. This was when I learned. My chest harbored a dull ache throughout the whole of the quiz. Our team lost.

 "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I just knew that you liked him and I didn't want to hurt you." Chloe's voice was like a snake's. I couldn't hear it in the same way again. She said she'd only taken interest him during the camp. I ignored her and went to sleep.

  My feelings were never reciprocated. I realised I was a child. I realised that if I had known about her I would never have been hurt. So now I go about my life trying to know. Know everything. If I could sell my soul to the Devil, it would be to have knowledge of everything in the world. I know it would kill me, but at least I could know.

                 ***

 It's still winter. I'm in my mid-twenties. I still believe that knowledge is power and I would definitely still sell my soul to the devil to know everything there is to know. I don't like it when people know more than me. They know more though. They know that I've changed. How does a child have a hold over me? The more I think about it, the more distressed I become. Weeks pass and winter becomes darker. I think about God a lot. I don't believe in God, but I wonder how he came to know everything. What is my soul worth to the Devil? Will he just take it? Oh great Lucifer! Please! Take my mere mortal soul! I chuckle to myself. It's impossible. I'll never know everything.

 The people around me no longer talk to me. Everybody just looks at me. Are they scared? I know I'm changing. My mind is closing in on itself. All I can see in the world now is a grey life. All life is grey. The only peace I get is from sleep. Sometimes I dream. The dream starts as nothing. Just black. Then a small red flame will appear. It gets bigger and bigger but never any brighter. It is very hot. My skin begins to blister and then melt. As the flames grows it reveals a mass of melting bodies. Melting their hair and skin into one another to form one massive, limb-infected growth of flesh. I become one with the mass and begin to suffer endless pain. Yet I cannot die. Nobody is allowed to die here because souls can't die. That would mean peace. Death is peaceful and eternal. We are condemned here. This lump of fleshy souls and I.

 Coming to in my dark room, I wake with a fever. I'm burning hot and sweating from my hairline. My pillow is damp with sweat and tears. A fever dream? It felt so real.