The Man

The wrong pathway can lead to interesting endings.

     A field, littered with many colorful flowers and plants. The grass was soft to the touch, the flowers smelled sweet. A path, freshly made and clean, cut through the middle of the field. Abrupt, but still fitting for the area. Sunlight shone down through the scattered leave of the trees, casting shadows on the warm ground below.

     The man slowly stepped onto the path, his movements cautious and careful. He didn't trust the serene, peaceful feeling of the field, nor the lulling scent of the flowers and cotton-like touch of the grass and dirt. Although the area hummed with life, the man felt uneasy with the silence. The wind by his ears seemed to carry screams, the tweeting of the birds and cicadas threatened his very presence under their trees. He felt unwelcome, he felt unsure.

     He took a step, the sickeningly sweet air crushed his lungs and made it hard for him to breathe. The sounds of the forest grew louder, but not too overpowering. And as he took another step, and then another, he felt as if a ton of bricks were on his chest. His pace was slow, and the loud sounds of chirping and warm breeze made focusing impossible. 

     Yet he kept walking. He bent his knees and carried the invisible weight on his shoulders, he stuffed his hands in his ears. He worked around it. But it was to no avail, as the obstacles in his path seemed to be angered by his defiance to leave. 

     He wasn't welcome here, and he knew why.

     He knew his very feet tainted the ground below him. No one wanted to follow in his dirty, rotten footsteps. He was in a pure land, a safe land, and he wasn't allowed to taint it. He wouldn't defile this land as he had done with the rest of the path he had walked, where the ground was barely fertile and nothing healthy could be seen in miles. Blood, pure and deep red, was on his hands, for killing and harming the souls of the things he had met. The people and wildlife that had unfortunately crossed paths with him. A feat, for someone who wasn't careful.

     The wind screamed louder, the animals pounced at his feet, but he would not slow. Something was at the end of this long, dark, grimy path, he knew. He knew that there was something that would make his efforts seem completely worth it. A bright, shining feeling enveloped his body. Hope. He knew he had long ago given up on it, and that trusting the feeling was a fool's errand, but he couldn't let go of it. Why, it was the happiest he had felt in years, the little glimpse of hope. 

     But hope doesn't keep a man from bleeding. His legs were torn and his feet were tired, he had walked for miles on end. His stomach was empty as it had been for a few days or so, and the weight on his chest didn't help his lack of strength. He pushed against it, kicking away animals that were brave enough to come and claw at his legs, sometimes even daring to go on his shoulders and hack away at his face.According to the man, all of it was just making him more and more tired, defeated.

     Right before the man was about to give up and collapse on the dirt path, he saw someone out of the corner of his vision. The weight and shrill noise of the animals stopped for a moment too, as they also noticed this person.

     Soft features adorned her face, such as pale, clean skin and bright blue eyes. Her long, black hair framed her face almost perfectly, twirling with her body as she faced him. She was wearing a beautiful white dress, plain and not too decorated, and it hung limply on her pale, strong-looking shoulders.

     "Who are you?" She questioned the man, her eyebrows furrowed at his disheveled appearance. He took a deep breath, not because he was nervous, but because his chest felt like it was being weighed down with a tractor. He took another deep breath, and another, until the woman looked at him with an understanding, yet still menacing, expression.

     With a wave of a hand the feeling was gone, as well was the multiple animals surrounding him and the strong wind. He took one last deep breath before standing up straight and looking the woman dead in the eye. She didn't flinch. 

     "I will ask again. Who are you?"

     The man pondered a moment before answering, his voice rough and scratchy from not talking to anyone for a long time. "I don't know." 

     She didn't seemed surprised, she just sighed and walked slightly closer, not getting anywhere near the dirt path. Her long steps and careful foot placement told him that she was determined to avoid it like the plague. "Do you know where you're headed?"

     The man said nothing, indicating that he, again, had no clue. He was just headed towards hope. The woman sighed, her hands were fiddling with the hem of the dress.

     "It wouldn't matter anyway." She said, walking closer to the man to add seriousness to the situation. "You shouldn't be here. Look at the ground you are walking on, it is starting to decay." 

     The man followed her command, and, as she said, the area around and behind him was starting to rot. The grass was wilting and turning a yellow, dry color. The once beautiful flowers lost their sweet aroma and their bright colors, and followed suit of the grass. The path the man had walked, like areas before, was dead and dying. He stared at it solemnly for a moment before turning back around to face the woman.

     "I'm aware," He said, his tone effortlessly emotionless. "but I do need to get past. I need to keep walking."

    The woman then reached a hand out as soon as the man started walking and grabbed his shirt tightly, a fierce look in her eyes.

     "Don't you dare." She snarled, pushing the man back as far as she could. He did nothing to stop her as he was knocked to the ground, the warm soil against his neck. He slowly sat up after a few moments of laying down, he enjoyed resting for once.

     "What would you rather have me do?" He said, feeling just the slightest bit annoyed. Although he made sure not to show it. "Sit here and rot like the plants I had killed?" 

     The woman was quiet, her back turned to the manas she began thinking. He sighed as the wind started up again, blowing through her charcoal locks and sending the sweet scent of fall through the air. He sniffed the air softly. To him, it reminded him of Halloween. Pumpkin pies, decaying leaves, and the ever present smell of dew from the night before.

     "Had it really been that long?" He pondered. "Have I traveled so far as to forget my sense of time?" Before he could think deeper the woman turned back around, determination set in her features.

     "I don't like you, stranger." She said rather bluntly. The man almost smiled. "But I don't want you traveling any farther. Come with me, off the path. You need to be somewhere else."

     "Somewhere else?" The man question, grunting quietly as he stood up. He crossed his arms before talking again. "Where would that be?"

    She rolled her vibrant blue eyes, grabbing his arm and yanking him off the path. As soon as he stepped off the dirt, it felt as if a weight was lifted up and off of his tired, bruised shoulders. He felt as if he could float up into the air, what with all this weight gone, and he was more aware of his aching body parts than anything. But the best part about getting off that path ovlccured to him when he looked down.

    Grass didn't wilt underneath his toes. For the first time in a really long time he felt the texture of smooth grass between his toes, and he enjoyed it.

     Looking at the man with a little smirk on her face she grabbed his arm again and dragged him onward, towards the trees. "Anywhere off that path."

     

     

     

Reviews

[Fatima]

WHY AM I THE FIRST TO REVIEW THIS?! It is truly amazing.

[MyNameIs]

Why thank you! And I don't know. I guess people prefer to look at poetry. Although I can't blame them- I am a rather large poetry fan.