Subconscious Envisioned

The wind blew gently, a soft hum in the growing darkness. The first star of the night was glowing brightly, a reddish color. The sun to the left set on the crest of the tallest mountain in the distance. A soft yellow and pink lit the sand, the dirt, the desert as it was. A few dry plants, and an increasing amount of nothing. The night was about to engulf it's absence and, if anyone wanted to find their way out, it would be death until sunlight.

          But that would be ok, because no one was ever here. No one since her, since the owner of this desert.

          Even she had abandoned this place. It held too many memories that only she would see, that only she could see. The cracks in the dirt spelling out names, the shapes of the mountains become those faces she had left behind, running away yet again. That's what she was good at. Running, fast and hard, slow and soft, fast and soft. She could never stay for long, she might grow attached. Might become a feature of someone else's desert, might give it character or life of some sort...too bad she was anyways.

          And they were part of hers, irreplacable, inescapable. She couldn't get away so she just never came back.

          This desert is her.

          She left herself behind, to whoever else might come across it.

 

 

                  Friends come and go but memories are forever.

          This was the phrase that filled the grassy plane. It swam through the leaves of all kinds of trees. It was part of the water flowing through the deep river, giving nourishment to all things here. This place has no name, and needs none. This place is a person, but not one we can see or hold. It is as untangible as an imaginary friend, and as understandable as an alien language.

          Only she could hear the words, feel the feelings, taste the deliciousness, the life, and anything else that can be done here. It is her. It was her. It will always be her.

          Her thoughts and memories filled the air, the ground, the roots and the leaves of the plants. They were the only things here. Everything just takes a shape though. She chose a landscape. She doesn't even know why, but that's ok. It's common. It's rare. It's beautiful.

          A large metal casing were the sun, the moon, and the stars at this moment. It's where she lived. This lower part, this was where she played. Where she stayed when she wanted to. But she loved control, and you can't have much control over a never-ending grassy plane. It sways where it wants, and when it wants. But it never rained. She didn't like storms. Instead bad moments that are usually formed into storms helped to form rocks and the wind sometimes. There were many, but she tried to spread them evenly throughout this place. She always remembered, but tried not to think about them. But they were there, nagging at the back of her mind, so they had to be here, tugging at the gravity of this place.

         She walked through the feild, a soft white dress on, it was nearly see through but she chose it for that reason. No one else was around to see her, but she wanted them to know that if they did want to see her she wouldn't hide herself here. White meant pure, and here, where all thoughts can be silenced and kept here, she was pure. She was innnocent. She could think about things that hadn't happened, about ideas instead of events or people. Anything she wanted.

          Her friends were the clouds of the sky. Always visible here, but never part of the actual place where she chose to walk, and ponder. She wanted them there for her, to block out the sun on a hot day, to imagine new things with, but she didn't want to be close. This was how she had been taught to be, how she had learned through trial and error.

         This garden, this world, it was only a year over a decade old, and yet, it held so much. She tried to remember everything, as forgetting was one of her greatest fears. She wanted to remember because if she remembered everything, she would know what made her feel bad, why someone brought something up, or how someone was. It was a defense mechanism to remember. That's why she loved and hated being remembered. She didn't want to have a permanent personality, she wanted to be always changing, and never ending-just like her world. Every situation brought out a new side of her.

          For another year her garden grew and sat peacefully, basking in sunlight, basking in light of any kind. She had always loved light. It left nothing to be assumed, nothing to be hidden. For in light, all is true, and all is pure. At least, that is how she had always thought of it. But then a great storm came. The first of a few storms, and she hated it. But unlike any other bad moment, she didn't want to remember, didn't want to forget, didn't want to feel, didn't want to try to stop the storm and turn it into something else. An entire year this storm raged on, it created oceans one could only drown in, flooded every plant and feild she had. Every rock was upturn and she saw that this was the worst she had felt for most of her life. Some of her friends made the storm worse. The storm was in fact her first break up..One that left her empty, with no sense of direction. Everything involved in it made her not want to get close to anyone even worse. It left dead patches in her world, where she was stripped of her emotions and left bare. But the memories still remained, some cracked and spoiled due to how her friends acted afterwards. Some shiney and new. Some she didn't even understand.

          The end of that year brought with it renewal and strength. She turned the oceans into waterfalls, and the dry patches were covered with some of the biggest stones, albeit she made them as pretty as she could. She had made a new best friend, and dropped a few old ones. Even if they were still around, they were the smallest clouds and the ones that were so hard to see from wherever she was that they barely crossed her mind. The new friends became part of the wind instead of clouds. She wanted them close, but not close all of the time. They were just there to caress her in her times of need, and she talked to the wind as much as she had ever talked to anyone before. She tried to help them, causing the wind to be more permanent, but never too much for her to handle.

          Another year came and went, and brought with it new friends, and more trust in friends than ever before. But she still never let them become anything everlasting. It was always something she could stop at will, or at least cause to not be close to her. But they were usually around somewhere, for her to go to. Her longest friend became the only imperishable feature of any friend until now. A strong stemmed, white-tipped pink daisy. Beautiful, strong, quiet, but always there, she was a match of gentle pink for her childishness, and white for her purity. She sat next to the waterfall that the owner went to daily. Not because of the memory it incased, but because of how beautifully inspiring it was that she could take something so horrible and make it ok, better than ok. She was healthy, and so was her cosmos. Everything was calm, everything nice. A few raindrops fell at times, but they always ended up just causing more beautiful things to grow. Every memory becoming something new. Every thought penetrating the unpenetrable air. Even the emotions of her friends starting to become something here, never bad, just noticable.

          And then a drastic change filled the air. Highschool. A bundle of nerves became a forest. A deep, dark forest, but light shone through every leaf, if she allowed it. Lost for a few days, she wandered the forest, and at last found a trail that she was comfortable on. It changed route at times, and curved away from most danger, but a large rock did in fact come upon the path. It took months to move it, and days to cross the dry and dead patch it left, but she finally found her way out of the forrest. She was no longer part of the highschool, but she could see it. She then went to her metal sphere in the sky and lived in it. Things happened and changed on the horizon below her, but she did not want to become a part of it. Did not want to feel it or know what was going on.

          Without realizing it she had stopped being around most of her friends. If not physically, mentally at least. Some clouds had dissipated, some had grown closer. The wind had picked up, trying to break her concentration, whether they meant for her to feel that way or not. More memories had happened without her consent. And a new permanent feature was here. Not a memory she understood but something deeper. Something more beautiful. It was one of the best friends she had ever asked for. She walked under the weeping willow that had become of the best friend. She wondered why she chose this type of tree. She knew she had chosen a tree because it had deep roots, because she wanted to keep it for a long time. But why a weeping willow. Besides the fact that it was one of her favorite trees, and one she knew she would want to be around, something in the name bothered her. She tried to remember what had happened while in the sphere, and it came upon her that someone else had been there with her. A girl, but somehow a boy, too. Not because she was gay or acted like a dyke or anything, she just understood that somehow there were two souls living there. She didn't understand it so she had tried to ignore the person. But that was hard to do as she was so lonely. She had latched on, but wouldn't let herself realize it or remember it until it was the strongest attachment she had ever felt. She had trouble remembering why a weeping willow, but it was there. She concentrated harder on it, and a memory floated in front of her. Very few memories were ones that she could see as they were in the real world, but they were together in class. She had promised that she would probably hurt the girl. But she only told her that so that the girl knew what she was getting into as being anything close to a friend with her. Confusion had settled upon the owner, as to what kind of relationship they had. What kind she wanted. She tried not to deal with it until it could develope as it wished without any outside forces. It continued, and she tried to tell how she felt when she felt it. But it was difficult because the emotions were so deep and intertwined that she couldn't tell, so it seemed like she was lying. But she was just confused, and so was her world. A blur of colors made the sky, and the grass grew wildly. More memories, great ones at that, filled the world at once than had ever happened before. She knew she loved this girl, but she was not sure how.

            Another year and she was living with the girl, still confused, but hurt. They had had arguments, but had survived them. But that was not why she was hurt. Something had happened to a family member. Something that was near-death, and she couldn't and did not want to handle it. It just made everything so stressful, and this was why she had moved out, with a few other reasons. Her world was one of chaos. Horrid winds blew, and it stayed dark most of the time. She tried to hide in the forrest that had now even consumed her homelife. Never letting light flood the place, never wanting to know the truth or anything at all that wasn't school related, completely understandable. She grew apart from every memory she had. Even the weeping willow, which lost some of it's beautiful stems every day, was left behind. She didn't understand. She didn't want to. And then light fell apon a tiny seedling. She came to this seedling, and fed on the light. The seedling would not become a tree like the rest of the forrest, but she wasn't sure if she would like the tree or not. She began watering it every day. The tree would be another person who cared for her as much if not more than the one of the weeping willow. She talked to it, and nestled her face in the fast growing leaves. It grew strong and tall and she loved it more than she had ever loved before. The weeping willow, she soon realized, had been something she loved in a different way, but almost as much. She finally understood it. She uprooted the tree in the forrest and carried it on her back to the openness of the rest of her mind, where she could now be. But a storm was brewing, and she could feel it.

          The girl's family was no longer welcoming the owner, and soon she was kicked out. The girl of the weeping willow seemed indifferent to the situation, and in anger of this the owner started plucking leaves from the tree. Soon it was bare, but still there. She kept as far away from it as possible, but it was as if she always needed to come back. She stayed with the new tree, the stronger tree. It bloomed purple flowers, which she took her to mean love, and strength, as well as beauty. It became her favorite tree here, but the weeping willow was still in this place. She didn't have a name for the tree, but it reminded her of a purple cherry blossum tree.

          The end of the school year approached, and with it brought wildfires and storms, neither causing the other to stop. She tried to forget everything, and succeeded only in repressing it, causing memories to become parts of the ground, the mountains that had risen upon the plane. Even the wind whispered things that she ignored. She created a small place where she tried to block everything out but the new purple tree. But she was lost without her past. And soon, it began to nag at her and bother her more being away from it.

          She tore down the fence that surrounded her slowly, but came upon the desert of her new life. Memories were still there, just harder to see, harder to find. The problems before still bothered her, but now she coudn't find them, and couldn't fix them. She tried to do it without really knowing them, but that didn't work so well. So, she sat beneath and with her purple tree, surrounded by the last of the nourished grass, and began growing more obvious memories. Enough to create a small valley between the mountains. Enough that she was happy and content with. It rained, but like the rain of before it just created stronger and more precious plants. As she remembered something from the past, it took shape again, and soon her mountains were slowly shrinking, but still there, as they were memories now, too, and always would be.

          Her rocks came back first, and then the grass and trees. Most of her past was still missing, but she would find it when she was ready. She would try to fix the rocks into something better, if not destroy them completely. She would try, and succeed. More memories came back, and newer ones fill every space even now. The purple tree grows taller and the roots grow deeper. The weeping willow, still bare, is and will always be a permanent fixture in this place. And the daisy still grows next to the waterfall. The owner takes a look around every day, and tries to figure out what's missing, but she fears something will be gone for a while. She has come back to her desert, to herself. She just hopes that one day the light will shine on all of it, instead of just where the purple tree grows.

          A new peice is here, one she doesn't want to know about but does. A gravestone, awaiting to be turned into something more wonderful, more meaningful. But it is a peice of the landscape that is tugging at her very will to fix anything. She strays as far away from it as possible, but it's always there. The owner hopes that one day she will be able to change it, but until she is stronger she doesn't want to even think about it. So she clings to her purple tree, and her better memories. She visits her daisy, and is trying to fertilize the ground upon which the weeping willow still sits so that maybe the comforting stems will once again grow and the roots will deepen, and maybe one day she will let the sun shine throughout all of this place. But for now, she will just try to deal with it all. It might take a while, but hopefully it will be worth it in the end.

 

Actually, she knows it will be.

 

And with that, the first ray of sun shone apon the rest of the growing land.