You are not a flower of hell, Don't blossom here.
Sneak away if the fate is too sad, and forget about the future.
The twist of the lukewarm wind's spiral is over.
Don't become lost. Don't blossom here.
The words were carved into the worn turquoise abused desk. It appeared as if someone had spent every day carefully sketching in the sentence as if it was of some greater importance, but to a lonely cold hearted being like myself, too busy to fret on such small things, it meant nothing. Nothing at all. But in the days that follow in this recording of time, they will set the course of fate forever. Starting today on this beautiful, pouring, down cast day. Look beyond the cloudy mask of this small town and adjust your gaze upon the hidden hell and the flowers that bloom amongst the thorns. Because you are indeed the flowers of hell.
The scent of the ever present morning fog enters my main peripheral sense. The taste mint and energy drink on my tongue. The only thought that crossed my mind was that of the last time the sun shone here. But those thoughts would soon fade and be replaced with petty things such as music, friends, and the ever present droning of teachers and seemingly never ending lectures. No matter how much I would wish to be free from this place. I thought it was always such a strange town. So secluded from everything around it. With the fog and forests with endless seas of evergreen and the scent of cypress trees. On the other side was the bay. A grey abyss that not many venture in. Thought this poor excuse for a town depends on fishery and such, the people here find it difficult with the fog constantly looming over the roaring waves. There is a story that says if the waves are restless an innocent soul is in its last phase of death. And when they are calm that the spirits are at peace. The one thing I enjoy about this place is the crying of the cicadas during the summer. The late afternoon sunset and the taste of the warm air fit perfectly with the high pitched cries of the horrid looking insects. Oh how I miss those days of ignorant bliss.
Running my fingers gently over the carved words on my desk I lose my train of focus on geography and the like. I did not really think much of it then but it always seemed like my friends and classmates never noticed those words. The class went quiet for a moment and a bright flash of lighting filled the room. The atmosphere changed tremendously after that. Even my friends who normally had high spirits unfortunately had their moods killed. I had always wondered why no one ever left this town. People were born here, grew old here, and most of them died old here. I once asked a few of my acquaintances whose families were heads of the town. The one I remember most of all was similar to the others but I never quiet understood. Her voice grew lower in tone. She said without emotion, eyes demonic and simply inhuman, 'If you begin to meddle in these affairs you will regret it. Your fate has been chosen, you shouldn't try to change it. You will just end up with more than you can handle, or you might end up dead.' After that I decided to spend my silent days in thought. I would not let them see that I would one day see the truth. And I would do so by hiding behind a mask of imperfection and welcoming disturbances.
I traced the way home that I always had taken. The feeling of eyes on my shadow and someone walking a few feet behind me sent shivers down my spine. Rain drops ran down my face and shoulders dripping off my hands and falling into a puddle below. Light footsteps behind me stopped and turning I saw the face of a young woman with long brown hair dripping from the rain. Her eyes were abnormal and her expression wasn't right, but I couldn't exactly place the issue. She started to laugh loud enough to break over the thunder and rain pouring from above. "What do you want?" I raise my voice loud enough to be heard by only her. She just continued to laugh and she moved her arms in front of her, showing the object from behind. A large cooking knife glimmering with red and hints of fabric. She moved towards me closer stepping slowly holding the knife in her left hand. "Joc? Jocelyn? What are you…doing? Stop! STOP!" my last words were a scream as I turned and ran off the path into the trees. I could hear her laughing not far behind getting closer and closer. I ran as fast as I could towards where the closest person I knew lived. Stumbling and running through the alleys and empty streets with her laugh chasing me the entire way, I found myself crying at linda's door step pounding on the wood frame. The door opened and I fell inside soaking wet on the hardwood floor. She shut the door and I scrambled for the lock. "What's the matter with you? You look terrified! What happened?" Her face turned white as she heard the laughing at the door. She looked at me with wide eyes and in a split second was half way up the stairs. We locked her bedroom door and sat there holding a rusty old softball bat. I spent the next hour explaining every last detail to her. She looked at me and smiled. Through her teeth she hissed "You don't know the half of it, dear."
The town I once thought was nothing more than a small place hidden just perfectly from the pain of the world was just now showing its true colors. The plan we had decided on was risky. The house we were in was being watched. Jocelyn was standing outside pounding on the front door. She had been there for a few hours now. We grabbed our bags and put things we would need to go into hiding. Money, a few cloths. And a hatchet. Just in case we were caught. We slid open the window on the second story and slid down the drain pipe onto the back patio. From the moment we hit the wet ground we were on the run. Some how managing to jump the back fence we made our way through the back forest and into the dark pit of Ocultada. Our footsteps splash in the mud and the only light we have guiding our way is the moon above, which adds an ominous ambience to the situation. We stopped in a clearing to catch our breath and decide on the next plan of action but before we could make up our minds a loud gun was set of not far in the distance. We ran in the other direction in a haste though now that I think of it, it would have been much safer to run towards the gun shot than away from it. It would have been safer if we stayed at the house and held our ground. It would have been a more pleasant death.