The Journey
Short story by Elixir Ahmed
Dreams. Dreams are a curious thing. You close your eyes and they flicker to life before you, a cacophony of odd sounds, and loud colours, as you immerse yourself in your second life. When you awake you never remember the journey, how you got there, but you always remember the story. Why?
When you lay your head at night, and your mind stops its constant chatter, you experience a moment of utter peace, tranquillity. Your heavy eye lids begin to flutter with sleepiness, as you watch yourself standing on a moon lit beach, listening to the calming sound of the waves as they go in and out, your waiting, but you don’t know why. You see something, something in the distance, a bright light, it feels, familiar. As it gets closer you see it, a small white boat with a long swan’s neck at the bow, around its neck a necklace that shone in the star lit night. you climb into the small boat only to see it laden with gold, for some reason you are not surprised, you are not concerned nor thrilled by it, instead you rest your head on the little red cushion, as the boat begins to turn back to the ocean, the soothing rocking of the boat lulls you tell you close your eyes.
You suddenly find yourself soaring through azure skies dotted with thin wisps of pinkie white clouds, as the warm summer sun sets, you weave through flocks of bright feathered birds, before you dive towards the earth like an eagle, you can feel your heart beat rapidly as your stomach feels like a million fluttering butterflies, it’s the most exhilarating sensation you have experienced, as you feel your bare feet sink into the lush emerald green grass of the rolling hill you landed on. You lay under a cherry tree, and touch the pink blossoms that fall from its branches, you watch them close to your touch as if alive.
You look up from your shaded oasis to see heavenly white fluffy clouds float down towards you, you shiver slightly whilst they wrap themselves around your body, forming the most beautiful and luxurious robes, whilst you marvel at the softness of the material, you can’t help but shake the familiarity of it all.
Something catches your eye in the distant, as you rise up and stand, you find yourself looking down at a valley with high white cliffs on either side, but what caught your eye, was the strange hue of the water that ran through the valley. You close your eyes and find yourself on the bank of the odd river, you turn to look behind you, and see the cherry tree you once stood under blow in the wind, the falling blossoms from the tree form the figure of a woman and delicately waves back at you.
You smile in wonder then look at the ground, your standing on smooth white seashells, thousands of seemingly flawless seashells adorned the bank, you kneel down beside the river and to your amazement the water is gold, a clear liquid gold, you dip your hand into the cool shimmering water, once you withdraw it, you can feel a surge of energy in your hand, a surge of power, you decide to take a sip of this water, and cup your hands and drink the small amount you collect, it’s the sweetest thing you have ever tasted, as it warms up your body, you feel alert, as if you have slept for years.
You decide to emerge yourself in the water, as you lower yourself in feet first, then waist, then chest, tell your whole body including your head is lost beneath the water surface.
You look at the river bed the same white seashells litter the floor, except for one small section. As you swim closer, you see that it is a small round hole in the sea bed, just big enough for you. Odd. Nevertheless you decide to venture on, as you swim and wiggle your way through the narrow gap until you find yourself on the bottom of another river bed, decorated with white seashells the same as from that from which you came, and with the water surface above you rather then below you, it seemed as if you had done a loop coming through the gap. You decide to swim up to the surface of the gold water, but instead of seeing the white faced valley, you seemed to be in a sort of round pool on a beach.
You hoist yourself out of the water and let your feet sink into the white sand, your senses seem clearer, the colours you see seem sharper, as you look out at the turquoise water reflecting the light of the white hot sun in a way you have never seen before, you can hear the whale of wales deep below the oceans waves.
You yourself seems different, changed by the golden water, you feel stronger, powerful, your hair thicker, your skin smooth and radiant, even your robes have taken on a pale gold tint, you laugh with joy. You take a deep breath taking in the salty air before you turn away from the view.
You turn away only to find yourself facing a jungle; you begin to walk through it pushing away large branches, occasionally stopping to look at a monkey jump from tree to tree, as the jungle symphony enchants you on. You find a clearing, a small field of tulips. On the other side of the clearing, is a small cobble stone cottage, you walk swiftly to is white door, only to find that it is ajar, you cautiously enter and shut the door behind you, feeling a bit like goldilocks.
The walls in the large open hallway is smooth, and bright, with intricate floral paintings that weave in and out of each other, vibrant blues, greens and gold’s, shine on the walls on either side of you. The polished wood floor of the corridor reflected the light released by the large crystal chandelier that hung from the high ceiling, which was also decorated so lovingly. The ceiling was a clear light blue with a hint of pink as if the sun were setting, fat baby angels of all colour flew through the twilight sky, wisps of clouds floating by, it was as if the ceiling was a window into heaven.
The room smells sweet, a pleasant aroma that you weren’t familiar with, like rich pungent frankincense; it reminds you of perfumes that might be found in ancient Middle Eastern bazaars.
You open a large door and begin to walk up the spiralling staircase. The stairs were fitted with thick brown carpets that your feet sank into, the wall was a smooth deep purple with gold along the board, at every floor there were two large dark brown doors that you assumed led to bedrooms. You continue walking, up, up, up, as you begin to wonder how the building appeared to be a plain small stone cottage on the outside, and a palace on the inside.
You carry on another three flights tell you reach the top floor. The wall here was a deeper, darker purple, there was a painting of the ocean around the bottom of the wall, the colour was indescribably beautiful, you have never seen such a rich turquoise blue colour, the waves of the ocean seemed to form the bodies of people, beautiful people, armed for war, they seemed to have wings, they were not people, but angels armed for war riding on horses golden swords out, at the ready. The Angels didn’t seem to be heading in any direction, but the painting got brighter and brighter, they never seemed to enter battle but they seemed to go on forever fighting a hidden foe, for you could not see the enemy. You feel joy.
You looked at the large mahogany door, on either side of the door underneath two candle holders were two large portraits.
You feel an overwhelming excitement in your chest, as your heart begins to flutter, as you twist the silver door knob. You enter the room and slowly close the door behind you, as you look around the strangely familiar circular room, with its high glass domed roof; you hadn’t noticed how late it had gotten as the stars twinkled in the dark night sky.
On one side of the large room was a polished dark wooden desk with a throne like seat behind it, behind it was a large old yellowing map of the world sprawled across the cream wall, on the other side of the room sat a large four poster bed, hidden behind drapes of silk, you walk towards the bed, but you hear a voice, behind you. You turn in a start but smile, now you remember why you came, why this all felt so familiar, it’s routine, everything stays the same but the story, you forget the whole journey but you never forget the story.
You look at the familiar faces, the tall women with her long curly brown hair, and her dark almond eyes, and her smooth brown skin, Ma-Ma-Makeeda is her name, as you begin to remember, and the man of equal height, his name was Matteo, as he smiles at you as if you were an old friend, his golden locks and his grey eyes always seemed warm and welcoming, behind the pair stood a younger girl, with long blood red hair that complimented her dark pink lips, and porcelain skin, she wore a long green corseted dress, she was from a different era, her name was Rilla , and beside her where two sets of twins that looked exactly the same, two girls two boys, they were not quadruplets, because like Rilla one set where from a different era, their names where Cindra and William, both where pale and had dark hair and green eyes, the same as their younger ancestors, Valentina and Vincenzo who seemed to be dressed far more modern.
Makeeda extends her arms as you run to her and embrace her.
“You have come for another story.”
Her silky chocolate voice seems ghost like as her whispers echo in your ears
“Yes, please tell me more”
You plead, as you feel a sudden weariness come about you, as Matteo lights a candle.
“Come my child lay down; the journey has made you weary.”
Matteo’s deep voice sounds soothing, as the pair each grab hold of a hand and lead you to the large bed, as Rilla moves the silk drapes out the way, and the twins fluff up each of the many pillows. You let your body sink into the feather mattress, trying your hardest to keep your eyes open; you will not leave before you hear the story.
Makeeda begins to smooth your hair back, as others begin to sing a hypnotizing tune, making your heart feel light and free, whilst you look up through the glass ceiling watching the stars twinkle.
You can hear Makeeda begin her story from where she had left the last time you made this journey, you try to memorize every word she says, you close your eyes and you watch yourself getting back on the swan boat as it leaves the shore of your dreams and begins to drift back to reality you know the next time your heavy lids open, you will not see the beautiful faces. You can still hear Makeedas voice, though its fading in with the sound of the waves, as the boat gently rocks guiding you back, as you realise you never remember the journey because you only memorize the story, when both are just as relevant.
Gender:
Points: 954
Reviews: 6