Sognore 3.0

The first thing he felt was how heavy his body was. He sucked in air desperately, yet his chest pushed it out as fast as it had come. The beckon of sleep urged him to fall back into its arms. He opened his weary eyes. The humid heat brought with it a strange feeling of déjà vu that only his body could seem to remember.

Mateo narrowed his eyes, trying to block out some of the sunlight. I must have left my window open. He groaned in annoyance, raising his hand in front of his line of vision. The first thing he saw was two legs and a bright blue sky behind it. His body jumped in shock.

"Yo," said an amused voice.

A strong, overpowering smell of cigarettes rushed up his nostrils. His heart felt as though it were about to jump out of his chest as he slowly looked up. A sly, yet puzzled smile stared down at him. Mateo's eyes flashed with confusion and surprise, recognition dawning on his face.

He had seen this girl before. She was the one who had dropped out of high school in the second week of freshman year. She always looked intimidating. Her short, black hair flopped over to the right and her sunken hazel eyes gleamed with interest. She wore an oversized dark green jacket which hung over her loose, black shorts. The name of some obscure rock band was detailed in scrawling red letters on her shirt.

"Didn't mean to disturb you," she said in a monotonous tone, "but I was walking by and saw you passed out here."

Her olive converses scuffled in the dirt as she shifted her weight to her left. Mateo sat in silence. His mind was stuck at a blank and his mouth couldn't piece together any words to say. He stared into the pools of her eyes, hypnotized. A vague memory beat at the glass separating his conscious brain from whatever lurked past its murky boundaries.

Her right eye drew him in like a whirlpool. A flash of gold erupted from her pupil, gorging on the hazel color. Fear grabbed his heart, its fingers wrestling with his memories. He blinked and it was gone.

"Uhh, you good? Are you high or something?"

"Y-yeah I'm fine. I just don't remember anything." He could feel a migraine beginning to set in. His eyes were dry and bloodshot. Mateo held his forehead in his hand, his mind reeling in confusion.  Dread settled in the pit of his stomach. He had sworn he had seen that eye before.

"Nothing at all?" she asked, her voice piquing with curiosity.

"Nothing." The lie felt bitter in his mouth. She furrowed her eyebrows, her questioning stare setting his cheeks aflame. Her eyes held some sort of concern in them, as though she thought that something terrible had happened to him. Mateo broke eye contact, fearing to look at them any longer than he already had. The silence between them was so awkward. He could faintly hear the rustling of trees in the distance. He usually loved the crisp morning air, but this time it was different.

"Maybe you had a blackout or got so drunk you can't remember jackshit." Mateo rubbed a blade of grass between his fingers, wracking his mind for any recollection. It was as useful as talking to a wall. The only thing he had seen was that gold in her eye. But it was only a hallucination, he reasoned with himself. From what though? His mind came up with nothing to answer his question.

"I mean--I don't think so. I've never passed out before."

"Or you forgot all the other times." 

"It's possible," he replied jokingly. The smile on his face broadened and he gained the courage to look her in the eye once again. She was smiling too. Should I make small talk now? Is that what I'm supposed to do? He hesitated before speaking.

"You look familiar. Weren't you that kid that dropped out?" Her face resettled into an expressionless, dead stare.

"Mhm. I didn't feel like going anymore. You're thinking of last year?"

"Yeah...," his voice trailed off, "Luka, right?" He had faint memories of seeing her walking around school alone. She stuck her hands in her pockets.

"Yup, that's me. And you?"

"Mateo." Her narrowed eyes stared right through him in scrutiny. Luka's unbothered, yet blank stare gave him chills. It was uncomfortable enough already that she hadn't responded, but now she was making it even worse by not breaking eye contact.

"You don't buy, do you?"

"Buy...?" asked Mateo like a confused little kid.

"Forget it." Her knowing smile only puzzled him more.

"Well, good on you for not dying. I'll see ya around. Maybe." And with that, she was off. Her pace was slow and indifferent as if she had no worries in the world. He pulled on a stray curl, twirling it around his finger in thought. Their short conversation left him with no answers. Mateo didn't care about being late to school, but he couldn't just stay idle and think.

He crouched over the spot where he had passed out, studying the indentations left on the gritty dirt. There was nothing peculiar about it. He could see the marks that his body had left, but there were no footprints near it. Instinctively he went to grab at where he usually put his phone, but realized he didn't have it. Of course I don't.

Mateo stood, wiping the dirt covering his hands onto his shorts and shaking the twigs out of his hair. The image of the gold eye once again pierced its way through his mind's barrier. He could see it now. It burned as bright as a wildfire and the gold in its eye seemed never-ending. It flowed outward from the pupil in the same way a stream would lead to an ocean. Some strange emotion bubbled up inside of him. Tears threatened to pour down his face.

"Why?" he said under his breath. As the eye slowly faded away, Luka's goodbye popped into his head. Collapsing in his bed would be so good right now. He longed to sleep all the confusion away.

Mateo loathed the slight feeling of excitement that arose within him. His life was so boring that even the tiniest mystery or event piqued his interest. He had often wondered what it would be like to live in a fantasy world. He rubbed his hand up and down his left arm as he walked. A gust of wind slapped him on the back of his neck, instinctively making him duck his head. It felt as though a dead person had touched him. He shivered, rubbing his nape.

School probably has already started by now. This was possibly the worst day in history to go but he had already skipped three days this week.

"Why couldn't the day I passed out and remembered nothing have been a Saturday instead?" he grumbled. Realizing he had spoken aloud, Mateo looked quickly around for anyone who could have heard him. To his relief, he saw no one.

His stomach turned at the sight of his house. It always looked awful. Its dull orange paint did it no justice. A high pitched, affectionate meow greeted him. He looked down to see a chubby tabby with big, green eyes.

"Ah, hey Bromi!" Relief spread through his body as he scooped the fat which hung down from the cat's stomach. His fur stunk of sweat and grass.

"Oh, I'm sorry baby! Your food bowl is empty." 

He twisted the brass doorknob, the door swinging open with a reluctant wheeze. He looked back to see Bromi's eager face. "Be right back!" His heart skipped a beat as the door shut behind him. What if someone had taken me and dumped me outside? What if they're still here? Mentally he rolled his eyes at himself. Though his body was tense and his mind raced with possibilities, it seemed silly.

There was no reason anyone would do something like that. If anything, they would've taken the few items in the house and left. But there's nothing expensive to take. He took a deep breath, his dirty feet squeaking against the tile as he whipped around the corner.

His shoulders slumped with relief at the sight. It was just his mom, her hand dangling off the side of the couch. She was still wearing her black party dress from last night. Her eye shadow was messy and smeared. His face melted into an emotionless puddle as he stared down the dark hallway. Her face only looked peaceful when she was asleep.

Although it was a normal sight to see, he couldn't help but avert his eyes. Mateo had become too accustomed to it. He recoiled in bewilderment as he felt water soak the bottoms of his feet. His pupils rocked in his sockets as a jolt of pain raced up his foot. He tripped, catching himself on the counter. He hissed in pain, one-legged jumping to the dining table chair. A small glint caught his eye.

"Glass?" he murmured, his eyebrows furrowed. It was small but wedged pretty nicely into his foot. He stared at it for a few minutes, procrastinating the dreaded moment where he had to pull it out.

In a flash he ripped it out, whispering a harsh string of curse words under his breath. A trail of blood coursed down his foot. At this moment he could imagine the soft envelope of his warm, comforting sheets.

He could feel how nice it was to burrow under them and drift into a peaceful, light sleep. Instead, the pain bit at his foot, reminding him to get the hell up. Mateo hobbled to his bedroom drawer and pulled out a tacky box of band-aids.

In his mind, he knew that they wouldn't be of much help, but it was better than nothing. He layered three on top of each other and stuck them to the wound.

Mateo then cautiously put on his slippers, grabbed the cat food bag in the hallway closet, and went back outside. Bromi's ecstatic face made his heart pound in affection. Although he did hunt lizards and other small animals himself, there was no way Mateo could ever deny his sweet face.

At the sound of the kibble hitting the bowl, he immediately dug his head in and ate without pause. Satisfied, Mateo went back inside. Now he had to deal with the real problem at hand. He approached the scene, his eyes hungrily eating up the details.

Glass covered the floor and brownish-red liquid had seeped into the tile's cracks. He bent down near the liquid, dipping his finger into it and holding it to his face. It smelled awfully pungent and strong yet metallic at the same time. Alcohol? It must be. There was no sign of it besides the smell.

The glass had broken so perfectly that there were no big pieces of it remaining. His eyes darted up to the small window above the sink. A small crack was open, but it wasn't big enough for anyone to get through. A fuzzy memory poked at his brain.

A small, black spider was dangling from the windowsill. The emotion of feeling silly and alone emerged from memory. He waited for more information to come but nothing showed. I must have gotten so drunk I don't remember anything. It was the only reasonable explanation. Still, the image of the gold eye lurked in the depths of his mind. He pushed it away, unwilling to confront it again. Now the real issue would be cleaning it all.

Quietly he shuffled over to the mop and broom. He finished his work as silently as possible, the temptation of sleep keeping him going. Just as he ran to his room, collapsed on the bed, and were about to close his eyes, his phone lit up. Its impatient ding was like nails on a chalkboard to his exhausted mind.

From Yasmin: Where R U?

Mateo could already feel his body becoming one with the mattress. There's no way in hell I'm going. He struggled to type on the small screen.

Not going today. His phone dinged several times with new notifications.

Y: Why not?

Y: There's something fun I gotta show u

Y: It's a surprise! Please come.

He lay there for a while, debating his fate. Mateo knew he would feel somewhat bad if he turned her down, but he also was so close to having the perfect nap. He counted down from ten to one until he would get up.

It was a simple tactic but it always worked. He heaved himself up, grabbing the navy blue shirt and ripped black jeans strewn over his bed.

Mateo faced the small oval mirror on the wall by his door. His face was monotone and dead. His eyelashes looked like spider legs and his eyes were swallowed by his pupils. He stepped backward, his eyes shrinking and floating on his face.

Mateo stepped up and back, his eyes dancing and enlarging as he moved. A bolt of fear raced up his body, his heart constricting. It had happened to Mateo a few times now and although he figured it was an illusion, it still bothered him. He would smash that stupid mirror one day.

After Mateo had brushed his teeth and put on his prized(and only) sneakers he walked out of the door. The air was strangely crisp and slapped him in the face with a chilly gust. His eyes were half-open as he stumbled down the stairs. Though he had a good amount of energy earlier, it was only because of the confusion of what had happened to him. Surely waking up outside without any memory would have the same effect on anyone else.

He walked around the corner of the house, his mouth turning up in disgust at the black mold which coated its sidings. Propped against the weak orange plaster was his bicycle. The rusted, silver thing was an embarrassment to ride. Each time he looked at the ugly thing he became swallowed by fantasies of city transportation. His only other choice was to walk to school. Mateo looked out at the drab atmosphere.

It was winter, yet only the mornings were cold. The evenings were warm and the nights were humid and dry. The whole town was dull save for the bright blue sky. He hated that blue sky. It mocked him. He would rather it be grey as the flesh of a corpse than the sparkling radiance it was now. Its beauty should have been here where his feet touched, not a faraway tease.

Mateo had always thought it seemed out of place in this world, like someone had stitched it on there and hoped for the best. He gripped the metal handlebars, its uncomfortable seat digging into his bones. Each time he exhaled, clouds of icy air flew out from his mouth.

Mateo smiled. Imaginings of him being a dragon flashed through his mind. He set on the dirt path to school. The only concrete road was miles away. A regular person would think it was pretty unsafe but it wasn't actually that bad. The worst he had seen was a hobo passed out by the side of the path surrounded by a clutter of beer bottles.

Trailer parks whizzed past him as he sped up. His eyes would no doubt roll back into his skull with horror if he dared to look at them for the thousandth time. Looking at his house every day was damned enough already. The air whipped all around him, blowing his thin shirt around as if it were nothing. Too bad I didn't bring a jacket.

An annoying, high pitched set of bings sounded from his pocket. As he was about to reach for his cell phone his bike lost control, nearly swerving off into a small ditch. He stuck his leg out just in time, managing to stop careening headfirst into the ground.

"That text better have been worth it," he muttered.

Yasmin: don't come to school. meet by The Heights. He texted back an okay and clicked off the phone. The blood rushed to his head as he stood up, black spots cowling his vision. Mateo began to regret ever getting up.

The dull beat of his legs as he tread down the path soon became etched into his mind. He felt equal to a zombie that had recently risen from the grave. Piercing stares and whispers of onlookers crowded his mind, though nothing was there. His thoughts seemed more alive than the people and the dead more alive than the breathing.

Before he knew it he was standing before the green and brown apartments. The hideous colors and the cheap plaster was no different than every other ugly thing in Sognore. The crisp air battered his skin as he turned in a circle. There was no sign of her anywhere.

Mateo squinted off into the distance, his eyes focusing on a tall figure. His eyes watered as the cold air buffered against his face. They were standing out by the edge of the forest, silent and unmoving. It was too blurry to see who it was, but it was too tall to be Yasmin. It was unnaturally lanky and seemed like nothing more than a shadow stuck to a painting.

His mother’s panicked, feverish ramblings sliced through his foggy brain. He grit his teeth, shoving her voice’s screaming about Him.

The thing was out in the open, yet it was invisible and unknown all the same. His heart leaped out of his chest as a face manifested before him. Bright green kinky curls swarmed his vision. Yasmin's amused smile and electric eyes stood out among the muted colors of the building.

"You scared me," he said with a flustered smile.

"Yeah no shit," Jasmine replied with a grin. She jerked her head towards the edge of the forest. The bony trees leered back at him, their bark fangs grinding together. Mateo gazed at the heroin needles dangling from the branches. Grass became powdered coke and twigs became blunts. Prickles of unease rippled down his spine.

"C'mon." She started off into the woods. The curiosity of what trick she had up her sleeve pulled him after her. Briers and lifeless leaves crunched under his feet. I bet there are more bones than there are leaves, he mused. Mateo had always imagined what type of people he was walking on.

Thorny stems brushed against his skin longingly and then sliced him like vengeful lovers. Annoyance flared through his body as the tiny mouthed plants fed on his blood. He folded in his shoulders, locking his arms in front of him.

Mateo felt like a prisoner being thrown in front of some sinister beast as a sacrifice. Most of all he felt unwelcome. His overthinking and wandering thoughts led him straight into the back of Yasmin.

"My bad."

She said nothing. The silence became a mist that suffocated their voices and forced their bodies apart. It would cling to his body, slink over his shoulders, then flick its sugary tongues teasingly over his closed mouth. He thrusts his arm into the unknown and it pulls him to its center. The tingles rush through his skin and organs. Mateo was always welcomed in the realm of his imagination.

A creature of the mist slithers around his slender neck. A being of flesh and a limitless mind stands as a god compared to the hungry lions surrounding him. They worship him for he is essential to feed their hunger.

The long body coils around his life force, squeezing his precious skin into submission. He tilts his head to his far-right, relishing the exposure of his fragile human body. He was as perfect as an ancient Greek statue. Frozen in time. It was like a black and white silent film. In the grasp of the mist, time was like a distant dream. It could go on for months, lifetimes, or five seconds. Apparitions of twisted faces emerged from the depths of the mist as Mateo fell to his knees.

The snake had now eaten the entire length of its body, its maw fastened on its tail. The life leaked out of his eyes, leaving nothing more than two oily black pools. Though he did not struggle. The creatures crept closer, their outstretched mouths and gaping eyeholes fastening upon him. It was not his flesh they desired.

He watched in indifference as they lapped at a translucent liquid that gathered at his feet. His lungs would then contract desperately as they fought for air. Mateo tore at the snake with the ferocity of a bull, his mouth curving into a snarl. He managed to tear some of its scales, though they dissipated from under his fingernails as if he had never touched it.

Black spots danced in front of his eyes. His grip loosened, his hands falling limply to his sides. A warm, content feeling rushed through his body as he collapsed to the ground. He was being tucked into the comforting embrace of sleep for the last time. Just as the final shred of light was about to be consumed, a voice snapped through his daydream.

"God, can you ever pay attention? Watch your step!" she remarked playfully.

"I guess not," he replied with a smile. Mateo often compared his brain to a dog. Although he held the leash, he had no control. It ran wherever it wished, darting after squirrels and running up trees. He was its pet.

"I think we've walked far enough." Yasmin's voice hitched with excitement. She turned to face him, her palm outstretched. Her eyes burned with a devious fire. The trees, once looming threateningly over them, now bent their gnarled bodies forward for a closer look. In a small baggie were six pink and white pills. He furrowed his eyebrows at the sight, though a twinge of thrill buzzed through his body.

"What is it?"

"Don't worry about it," she responded in a calm tone. She thrust her palm outward to him, implying he take one. Mateo hesitated for a moment, his hand lingering over hers. He had done similar things before with no big deal despite his logic always telling him otherwise. He was aware that it was a bad idea, but there was no fun you could find in Sognore without drugs added in the mix.

Mateo grabbed the packet, pulled out two pills, and downed them dry. An uncomfortable lump sat in his throat as Yasmin's eyes bored into his face. Her befuddled expression cracked into a large grin.

"Well I wasn't expecting that," she said, "you must be excited." Mateo frowned.

She grabbed her backpack which had been slung casually over her shoulder and flung it to the ground. Yasmin rummaged in it for a bit, sifting through crumpled papers and wrappers. She pulled a bottle of water out of her bag and presented it to him as though it were a treasured relic.

The water streamed through his parched mouth and broke the glue which clasped his tongue and mouth together. He passed the bottle over to her and she took a swig, swallowing one pill.

"All we do is wait now." Yasmin sunk to the ground, her back supported by a thick, twisted tree. He felt its wrath coming off in waves as he sat next to her. Mateo tilted his head to the heavens, his eyes fluttering as he examined each brown leaf. They all stood still, just like the rest of the town.

His body began to feel less stiff, his arms and legs going limp like a doll's. The more he stared at the leafy skies the brighter the world grew. The sun leaked into his skin and melted his organs and his heart. He took it all in, indulging in the sweetness of it all.

The sun became a ripe lemon that dripped with succulent honey. The leaves' shapeshifted into flecks of greens and oranges that frolicked on the arms of trees. He was blanketed in pleasant energy that radiated through his whole being. Mateo began to laugh wildly, his heart quivering like a caged bird that finally had a taste of freedom.

It was better than falling under the spell of drunkenness. It was more amazing and vivid than he had ever felt in his lifetime. He sunk comfortably into the tree; its root bones were no longer firm and they felt like a bed of jelly. Surely it was no pill. It felt like ambrosia; something only a divine being were allowed to drink.

The sun's gaze reached his face, melting his skin as though it were candle wax. Mateo's eyes began to droop and he fought to keep them open.

A gentle wind tousled his hair, combing its fingers through the mess of curls. Bliss rushed through his whole body, gathering in his chest and soaring him past the boundaries of his flesh.

The forest bathed in his surrender, and he in its warmth. He sunk deeper and deeper into its sap, his brain absorbing its nectar. The forest mutated into orbs and flashes of vivid color which glimmered around his body. It all had leaked and melded together into one sweet dream.

As his eyes were about to close again, a twisted, inner voice made itself known.

This feeling of joy is only temporary. It is artificial, it's not real.

The euphoric colors evaporated into blurry blacks, browns, and grays. His boggled mind began to throw slurred accusations.

His mouth felt strange and mechanic as it moved to fit his garbled words. "Nnnever real! It is allll a trickkk!" His head lolled to the side, his nerves tingling as his hands brushed against the dirt. Mateo's heart pumped sluggishly and his brain was a pile of useless mush yet his body screamed at him to run.

He dug his fingers into the ground, leaning forward and tucking his knees beneath his chin. As he heaved himself up, his heart dropped into his gut and he lurched to the side. His fingers grasped the side of the old tree, snagging on its bark.

Mateo's eyes dilated in sheer horror as the bark became flesh and the leaves morphed into legs and arms. He looked up slowly, egged on by sheer curiosity. Bloodshot eyes sprouted from each and every rotted limb, their pupils rocking in their sockets.

An avalanche of tears poured down from them, trailing down the clumps of flesh. He could feel the pain that emanated from their helpless, peering gaze. Yet they had no mouths to scream.

Mateo stumbled backward, pivoting and almost falling. The scratchy breathing of the flesh trees slithered through his ears and punctured his brain. No matter how fast he thought he was running, time seemed to slow. His surroundings blurred and paused as though they were taken in a time-lapse of snapshots.

His breath stuttered and flickered in his chest like a candle that refused to be born. Everything looked the same. The piles of flesh were aligned away from each other, the grasses did not vary in height, and the ground did not change. It was a never-ending expanse of death that had one alive, sparkling star inside of it. I'm gonna be killed.

Out of all his senses that were depleting, his skin and touch were the most sensitive. Slime coated his body, sticking close to his form and sticking to him like leeches. He fell to his knees, clawing at his skin like a rabid animal as he rocked back and forth. His hair stuck close to his nape and forehead, clumped and tangled mess. Eyes of misery and hatred latched onto him from every angle. Their gazes probed every inch of his being.

The feeling of having such euphoric happiness all for it to be ripped away in a few moments fueled his anger and sadness. A small part of him knew, yet his mind wanted to believe otherwise. Mateo sat there for a while, his head pressed against his folded knees and his hands clutching his hair. It felt all too familiar. Something deep inside him longed to have revenge; against what, he didn't know.

A child’s hands extended from his body. A woman’s dirty, white skirts folded in his desperate grip. The bag of tears in his tiny chest threatened to spill into his gut. Her iron grip crushed the bones in his wrist and she shook his body back and forth like a ragdoll. Fiery ash raged from her eyes and erupted through her cheeks and hands. “You never listen to me! You always disobey me!”

A coldness sprouted in her pupils and crept over her eyes.

“Ask for forgiveness.” Her mouth tightened into a rigid line.

“Fine then! I’ll leave you in this forest for He to eat you alive!” Spit flung from her mouth as she ripped her skirts away from his weak hands. She stormed away and the forest swallowed her.

His legs shaking and fingers twitching, he stood and turned back to the place he had been earlier. There was no one to help him, not here.

Desperate and fumbling for a way out, he continued on. Yasmin was still nowhere in sight. The forest grew dimmer and dimmer, fading into a mass of moving shadows crowded with eyeballs. Mateo stopped, covering his eyes with his hands. Lay down, I die! Run, I never get out! his mind babbled in fervor.

The fatty clumps of flesh, sinew, and limbs were still there. Each eye was focused on him. He tried to tell them to go away. To stop looking at him. The words became a glob of meaningless sounds that lodged in his throat. His open mouth refused to make the sounds.

They could not scream. They could not find their bodies. They lived yet did not live. Mateo could not scream.

A thread appeared in his line of sight. Its soft blue light shimmered quietly in the thrashing sea of abomination. It rocked back and forth like a charm of a child’s lullaby. All else behind it became nothing more than a blur. Mateo’s breath stilled in his chest.

The string flowed like a pure stream, flowing into the spoiled earth and stretching through the dirt. The lines flew in front of him, becoming a distant path through the darkness. Chills formed on his skin. It was as though his soul had been exorcised from his body through a deep trance. The entire forest dwindled into silence.

The farther up he looked, the taller the thread became. Faintly he could see long, shadowy fingers lightly holding it by its top.

Mateo’s body felt like a lone paper carried by nothing more than the wind. An eerie comfort saturated his heart; one that did not belong. A loud thump crashed into the ground as the lull of sleep overtook him. He lay his tired bones against the soil as his vision submerged into murky waters.

Here is a picture of my childhood cat, Bromi. He passed away three years ago.