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...a certain type of fear...

Updated on April 22, 2012

“Eat Me, Eat Me”.

He looks around and sees just the leaves of the trees in the forest.

“Eat Me, Eat Me”.

Again he hears the whispering torment that had followed him ever since he stepped into the dense undergrowth of the woods situated outside his home. From the moment he stepped into it, he knew he was leaving the safety of the four walls that had provided him with security. Well up until the present time.

“Eat Me”.

That sound, that resonated the reason why he opened the door, which had brought him to this place. Why did he do it? Did his action justify his need for a substance with qualities that could give him the opportunity to be complete?

The woods troubled him, its rotting smell reminded him of the wound he once had. Back then he was younger and more trusting. It had been a bright day and the woods were inviting. He had no need to go in, yet curiosity had caught the better of him. He thought he saw the most juiciest fruit within the dense growth. He noticed it for there was a glow so concentrated upon it. It was as if the sun had chosen this fruit to be its special place to dance on. So he stepped in. As he did, the dense undergrowth cleared, forming a path that was gracefully thin and twisted, providing just enough room for him to walk on. Each step was cold, even so, the warm glow from that fruit was inviting him even closer.

“Eat Me”.

Those words again, its sound now being more than just a whisper, for now it was as if something sinister was near. The memory of his last encounter had taught him to expect so.

Just then, he began to notice how green the woods were turning. From the corner of his eye, he could see the sun’s rays filling a small area of vines. For a brief moment, he felt radiated with hope. Doubt quickly set in, he stopped and instinctively felt his wound. Even though it had healed, it now felt as if it were festering. He looked to the ground, still covered with thick weeds, now embedded with fungi. Then he looked into the vines, seeking the point to where those rays were leading.

With each step he took, he saw that more fungi sprouted from places where he anticipated placing his feet. Still he kept walking, and as he reached those vines he started to clear them, grabbing armfuls of those thick green stems which were knotted and twisted within each other. The resistance intensified, his legs could not move. To scared to look, he closed his eyes and felt the fungi sprouting over him. The vines knotted his arms, only his head was free.

With his eyes wide shut, he felt the sun’s rays through his eyelids, burning them red. So with hope he opened his eyes, only to find a hand ready to pluck him.

As that hand drew near, he extended his face from his body noticing that he was now back at the edge of the wood, back to where he had started. The hand reached his eyes, blocking the sun’s rays, so he bit it, stinging the hand owner with his tongue.

And with that he heard himself claim, “You can’t eat me”.

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