Scorched Earth and Rebirth

in fiction •  5 years ago  (edited)

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A thousand miles of scorched earth lay behind me. Years and years of it, its dust still clinging to my clothes and skin and soul. Struggle, pain, sickness, apathy. The worst decade of my life. Rebirth lies ahead, but despite its promise, I hesitate, trembling and unsure. Knowing the poisonous ground behind me must stay there for me to survive, I step forward. And look back. That bleak landscape with its deadly, inexorable pull has been my safety net. And although there is nothing safe or comforting about it, it’s my safety and comfort. The devil I know.

The horizon shines with color and vibrance I haven’t seen in years. Blue skies, sunshine, and promise so bright, I shield my eyes. The darkened land calls from over my shoulder, singing a familiar song, doing its best to lure me back. Possibly…probably…to my grave. Something inside me knows it’s the latter. But it’s so tempting. I tremble and swallow down the bile rising in my throat. Be strong. Be strong.

As a child, I watched it all unravel. My mother crawling across that barren land, clawing at it, clinging to it. I knew then exactly what I know now. There is no surviving it. Not intact. Not whole or happy or useful. And I had known then the power of the light. The beautiful landscape ahead had always been there, even for my mother. It was only a choice. A choice the woman refused to make, even for me, her only child. Had it been out of reach? A mirage? Is it now?

Sweat breaks out in beads, my skin stinging with its release. My stomach churns, acid and bile and fear all competing to escape first. I swipe my brow, trembling with a physical need I have never before denied. I want to look back. Turn tail and run for that dark, toxic hell I’ve settled into for the past twelve years. It’s the devil himself as a substance, poison in my veins, yet its voice is oh, so sweet. Songbirds sing a different melody ahead. Take a step. Just one. Fight!

I squeeze my eyes shut against the brilliance ahead, memories washing over me like a flood filled with nothing but toxins, death, and decay. My stomach cramps and twists, dry heaves coming in fits, making me feel as if I might turn inside out. My veins blaze with a need I cannot describe. Sweat drips off me, soaking into the dusty ground at my feet. The voice behind me grows louder. I peek over my shoulder. How can anything so desolate and ugly and hopeless look so appealing? Like heaven itself.

Tremors wrack me and the tears come. I can’t stop them. This should be so simple. I know the right answer. I feel it shift low in my belly, the strange but incredible feeling of being nudged from the inside. As if it’s urging me forward, away from its doom. I place my hand over him, knowing the only way to protect him isn’t with a shielding hand, but to step forward, then again and again until my feet are planted firmly on softer ground, with the poisonous ground safely behind me and the sun shining down. Welcoming us to our future.

A thousand miles lie between scorched earth and rebirth. It seems impossibly far, but I take a fortifying breath, hold my head up, and forge ahead. My legs shake and the voice still calls from behind, but I refuse to look back, closing my eyes against the temptation. I steel my resolve and force myself forward. The voice grows softer, and with it the ground beneath my feet. I open my eyes and see our future before us. The landscape of death would have had me believe that first step would kill me. It still whispers promises and lies, but I clench my jaw and look back defiantly. And my past plays out like a tragedy. I see myself crawling and clinging to that same ground my mother had, dying despite its allure and its promises. Trapped in its poison, possibly forever, with no reason to escape. Another nudge from within. I turn my back on the past and the poison and I embrace the possibilities ahead. With a protective hand on my belly, I step forward. I’m done. It’s over. We’re going home.

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This is stunning, Elaine. I'm so glad you participated in this prompt! This is the kind of meaningful literature we need on Steem. :-)

Thank you! I'm glad I participated as well. These prompts always get the creative juices flowing.

Thank you so much for participating! You can find your post featured in the Steemhouse collection of prompts here.

I sense at least two metaphors, and one of them is terrifying. I don't even want to say it out loud. Could you provide any insight into your process, Elaine?

Honestly, this premise was the only one that presented itself to me. I myself have never struggled with any type of addiction, but have done enough research for my books, and seen enough of it in others to have it grasp at me and scream for my attention when I saw this photo. As you observed, though, this piece could mean many different things to different people, depending on their situation. Thanks so much for reading!

Wow! Excellent story! I read it as a kind of psychological thriller, a triumph over neurosis, generations of it. Nice work!

Thank you so much!

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