A scary story: the falling pit where I fell in

a-scary-story-the-falling-pit-where-i-fell-in

I tripped and fell in a hole that it didn’t look like a hole. It looked like a land I could safely explore. And so I did. Since I was a kid that is the only thing I wanted to be.

I explored. And I fell inside. It felt dizzy at first. The kind of feeling you get from the bottom of your stomach up to your lungs.

The thing is,

I am still falling down.

Permanently falling is my state now.

It never ends and I feel it never will. Though I am hoping I am wrong. I can’t afford wasting my time by keep falling to Neverland.

While I was falling, I came to a point that I almost fell asleep. Actually, I think I did. I fell asleep and I dreamed of colors and things like zebras and ice creams but when I would open my eyes, everything would disappear.

It faded. It washed out with the air running through my arms and legs and the so-called thigh-gap and in-between my bony fingers that have long not been fed.

Hissing. The air hisses through all these holes. Sounds fill the space and that’s how I count time from now on. A hissing is a second. Melodies are minutes. Songs are hours. I am up to three and a half songs.

That might be a dream. Or not.

I am unsure.

Until something hits my head and I immediately wake up.

I am scared but a moderate level of scared that can only be compared to someone surprising you at the end of a hallway. Within that level, there are other scary levels. That someone can either shout your name—with a bit of luck, they make a mistake and call you something else like Carrie or Mariah Carey—, or produce a Booo sound that can really make you shit your pants. But you seem not to care about all that. So my level now moves along that scary range in which it is scary but yet safe: there is still distance from where you and that someone stand and you trust your legs will be okay for running away—if that were the case. It is not either crocodile-scary, that it can attack you without noticing or blinking or breathing. That is a superior scary level I have not yet faced and crap, there is not a single piece of wood nearby to touch to erase any bad luck.

I keep dissecting the levels of fear while I am still falling. There is not much to do in here, really. I have already enjoyed falling to a certain and fair amount of time, but I just can’t take it anymore. I have never let myself enjoy something that long.

Four hours.

My brain needs to be fueled with important matters. It is a matter of time sound I hit the ground: I need a limit because there is no point on falling if you keep falling. Or is it?

And yet another thing hits my head and I am starting to feel angry. I am annoyed and I start to believe this is a joke. Everything keeps being dark: not a single hint of a sparkle that might show a hidden camera.

Nothing. Hissing.

Melodies.

Rhythms that watered my eyes but I did not know if it was because I was emotionally touched or they were already dried up and when was the last time I blinked my eyes?

I started seeing my family. I started seeing all my life, all together. Everything met for the first time. People I loved. People I didn’t care about at all. People that might be dead too and it became weird because they seemed annoyed I disrupted their dreams. Then I saw nothing. Then they appeared again as if it was the end of the play and the actors made that ritual of exiting and entering the stage. In and out. And I felt any feelings referring to that. And then I screamed loudly to make it stop, but no sound was heard in the falling pit I created on my own.

Only one person was left.

If I ever get out or hit bottom, I want to show it to you. Look. Here. Do you feel proud of me. I made my first dream come true. I suffered but I can’t recall pain anymore. If you want I can push you too. Now it’s your turn.

But you push me again. You thinks I loved it and you love me so, that without asking—because it is a surprise—you give me more of what I asked for with sealed eyes. It is common to keep them like that when darkness is the only thing that matters in the now. In a few years it will become the established currency. It won’t matter what state you’re in.

That’s the melody I hear in the falling pit.