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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2158899-Is-That-You-Medusa
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Contest Entry · #2158899
Entry for the "Weird Tales" contest, May 2018.
I was 17 when I started running. I didn't know where I wanted to go, I knew home was a lost cause, an empty cabinet, a park where the lights had gone off a long time ago. Like the old Greek legend of Medusa.

Where did I go? Who did I meet? Did I do great things on the way? Did I meet people, did I fall in love with someone like Medusa who turned me into a stone.

It didn't turn out that way immediately. Gradually the infatuation and lust was everything and it wasn't a thing at all.

Imagine a leaf floating endlessly in a tunnel
A tunnel leading to a bank of light
Light leading to other doors
Doors opening to patches of sky and a beach in uproar.

I met someone. I traveled to many places. I made friends. I tried jobs. I carved pieces of happiness.

Some turned out to listen to what i said.
Some didnt care and wanted to go suck on rainbows.
Some loved me and I didn't want to understand what they felt.
Some left before I even knew who they were to me...and i remember them as lightening in dark summer nights.

But I found a strange truth lurking behind this patina.
That life was a sun soaked cobweb. That people were scrapes on a tree standing in the middle of time.
That there was no time but a ceaseless continuum - a glass without water but always full
That I was both outside and part of the illusion.
That love was as formless as water. And as endless.
All an exciting symbol of a monster.

I drowned. I died. I was reborn. I felt pain and they took my blood out of me -
A drop at a time. To feed ancient hungers. And primal deities. Atoned to stone.

I kept running. I didn't stop. I was 17 then. I could be older or it could still be that night charged with electric ghosts and chilling voices
and reptilian hiss at the bus station I could feel of an ugly creature with bloodshot eyes.

I miss home. I miss what was a family that has transformed to stone. But i cannot turn the blue ribbon wound on the dust trail.

It is 12 midnight now. And the city is a hive of frayed lights and dying sounds. I think I see faces they are weird with reptilian aura, in the bed and on the walls where the lamp scratches forms.

It could be you. It could be some other from another life come home to haunt me.

I glanced into the dark with fright at the bloodshot eyes and said aloud before I got turned into a stone.

Is that you Medusa?
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2158899-Is-That-You-Medusa