snow Storm

Stranded. In a world where left was right and up was down, I was completely abandoned.

The Sahara desert. Known for its sand that blisters your feet and the scorching sun. This place forces any human that dares try conquering it, to suffer for miles, searching for some form of food or shelter with no avail.

Stage 1.

The searching and desperation as I walked through the sand, dragging my feet, was a punishment. I’m sure that I had done something terrible in my past life and this was how I repented for it. My lips were cracked and as I touched to them they felt like crinkled, ripped parchment, sucked dry of any moisture that was there. I clambered over dune after dune trying to find some hope, being disappointed each and every time as my desperate attempts proved to be pointless. As this stage passed, I lost hope and now walked to keep myself moving.

Next, this desolate plane of existence would starve its victim. They would lose all ability to function themselves as their body processed the last of its leftover nutrients and used it in every way possible. Sadly, would never be enough. Not only were they starved they now had no water, their canteen would have run out miles ago and the onset of dehydration would begin.

Stage 2.

I continued on, only now I was reduced to my hands and knees, my body could no longer support my weight as I became weak. My bare back was covered in burns and blisters, the pain could easily be compared to a fire being lit on my back, fed by gallons of gasoline. Surrounded by the only plant able to thrive here, I wept. Cactus, filled with water and nutrients, they were a temptress who I could not give in to. With no knife or weapon I would shred my hands attempting to get to what could be my only chance of survival. Which should I choose? As I pondered the thought of which was more important, I entered the next stage.

Mirages. The desert plays with your mind and gives you a sense of false hope as you are presented with what could possibly be your saviour. A person in the distance, an oasis in the middle of a place where water does not exist. The hallucinations fit the person and help to torment each victim in a different way. This form of torture is the cruellest of all. It brings the mind comfort and security before ripping it away again, all too quickly.

Stage 3.

I was done, I couldn’t continue on any further and I allowed my body to go limp. But as I fell forward and expected to meet the scorching high temperatures of the sand, my bare chest met a cold sensation and I looked down to see white snow cushioning my fall. As I got over the amazement, the snow swirled up into the air around me. I realised just how misrepresented snowflakes were as delicate objects of beauty when they began pelting my body and stinging my skin. A snowstorm in the desert, a completely unnatural phenomenon, but in a hallucination, I suppose anything could happen. I whimpered as I attempted to continue moving, trying to crawl out of the destruction. I pushed off my chest and onto my hands, a searing pain as the below freezing temperatures burned my palms. One hand in front of the other. That’s all I had to concentrate on. Just keep moving. I continued on for a few meters when I saw water in front of me, an ocean, stretching for miles. It couldn’t sustain me, the salty water would make me worse before it made me better. But as my delusional state continued to worsen I lost all care for these precautionary thoughts, stretching my hand out to collect some of the cold water. But as my hand broke the surface, all that I discovered was a handful of sand and the mirage faded. There was no snow nor ocean. Only me, left alone and in the middle of a devastating sand storm. It was not snowflakes, but grains of sand that banded together to cause me immeasurable levels of pain.

Death. A slow, lonely death.

Stage 4.

As I lay down again, rolling onto my back, I allowed my body to go numb as the devil pulled my consciousness towards him. My body left to rot and be picked over by vultures. My torture was over and the desert could concentrate its efforts on another poor victim.

The cycle begins again.