Trip

She trusts Will. She trusts him more than anyone else. 

She picks up a shrivelled looking mushroom and takes the leap. The earthy fragrance consumes her whole mouth. Her whole being. 

“Try not to have a bad trip,” says Will.

Ellie sits in front of the television, watching a childhood favourite. She focuses on the little dog and the human, on an adventure together, travelling through a magical land. 

Ellie needs this break. She needs time away. To dive into the world of her childhood when times were good. When her mother was there for her. When school wasn’t so stressful. When she didn’t get into fights. Her mind accepts the mushroom with ease. Ellie is happy. She can feel every nerve tingle with happiness, every drop of blood shudder with happiness, and every molecule dance with happiness. Time seems to go by so fast. 

And.

Yet.

So.

Slow.

Will drops onto the sofa and man-handles a bag of crisps. Giggling, he starts to examine each one. Turning them over, breaking them in half, crumbling them in between his fingers. He places specific pieces on the coffee table in front of him. He doesn’t seem to care about the other crumbs on the table and the tea stains.

“Ellie, look at this,” Will says, looming over the broken crisps.

Ellie peers over Will’s shoulder, examining the crisps. She stares at one and notices the features. The top is rounded. One side has three staggered points, probably from where Will broke it. It then curves round and meets the top again. The air bubble in the crisp is just off centre towards the three points.

“It has a face! It has a face!” Ellie bursts out laughing, grabbing Will by the arm.

Will laughs with her. She hasn’t felt like this in months. Scrap that. She hasn’t felt like this in years. Her eyes are watering. Her stomach feels like she’s just finished one of her daily runs, not that she does that anymore. It hurts. But it’s a peculiar type of hurt. The type of hurt when you push in a bruise. Ellie scrambles for breath, cackling and grabbing onto Will while pointing at the crisp. 

After twelve minutes they settle down. Will is still mesmerised and giggling at the crisps as he searches through the packet.

Ellie feels happy. And hungry. She ventures into the kitchen on a mission to make the perfect meal. Ellie doesn’t quite know what just yet, but she’ll know once she’s made it. 

She picks up a knife. She clumsily drops it while trying to get to the other counter. It slices part of her finger.

Blood oozes out of the cut onto the kitchen tiles. Panic. She searches for a plaster. She always faints at the sight of blood. She doesn’t want to faint, not when she’s like this. The first aid kit is in the top left cupboard next to the reusable bags that her mum always hoards. Her head is swimming, diving, splashing as she hits the tiles with a thud. Darkness invades her vision.

Ellie enters a room full of nothingness, as foreign as the bottom of the sea. Like her mother’s bedroom, it shouldn’t be explored. Panicking, she stumbles back only to discover a slimy solid wall. She searches for a light switch. Her hand touches something. Cloth. Then skin. She retracts her hands. A faint light turns on somewhere. Faintly glowing, pulsating. Everything is black and white as Ellie stumbles towards the light. Her legs drag against the bones and skulls of unknown species and lost souls. They consume the floor and the jagged walls. She gags at the thought of the decayed corpses having a life before their fate was met. Blood trickles through the cracks in the dark stone ceiling. Dribbling onto the bleached bones, dripping on her head. Slipping into her eyes and drowning her vision.

The scratching of nail on bone. Peculiar voices slither into other voices. Husky. Quiet. Deep.

“We’ve not seen one of you here in a while.”

“She even smells like a human. Give me a taste.”

“Let’s see if she can leave.”

Ellie is lying down. 

She cannot move. 

Figures are skulking around and chittering at each other in the abyss. The smell of rot crawls into Ellie’s nose, hitting the back of her throat. Ellie recoils as distorted pure white faces appear in front of her, their hair in knots with sea salt clumping it together. Their eyes are pure obsidian, hard and cold – she can’t see into them, and she doubts they can see her. It’s like she is in a black and white movie with the contrast at the highest possible point, everything vivid yet disorientating at the same time. Their smiles are gaping. They have no teeth, no tongue, the corners of their mouths extend as high as their cheekbones, exposing nothing yet everything. Water drips from the roofs of their mouths, like a cave below a waterfall, the water oozes out of their smiles and onto the floor.

They crowd around her. Their mouth water drips onto Ellie’s hair, her face, into her mouth. The saltiness jumps on her tongue, creating a mass amount of saliva, building up until she cannot stand it. She spits it onto the bones at their feet. 

Their gaping mouths sag. Water pours from them. Their eyes grow harder and colder. They hiss like melancholy thunder; it echoes through the dark space.

Ellie puts her hands to her ears, trying to shut out the noise. It vibrates through her ears and into her body, tugging at a part of her being. She runs, barging into the figures. They are surprisingly lightweight, not dense like she expected. Ellie stumbles over the bones. Trips. Falls. Scrambles back up. Runs through dark passages, enters different caves while blood trickles down the walls in her presence. She only stops and takes a breath when she doesn’t hear the hisses and scurrying behind her. 

She glances over her shoulder. A face appears in front of her. It smiles at her. It is not as daunting as before, just a slight smile. Not to the point where water is spilling out of its mouth. More like trickling. It lightly hisses at her, tugging at something in her core.

“What are you doing here?” It hisses.

Ellie becomes entranced. “I don’t know, I want to leave.”

“Now, why would you want to do that?” It brings It’s long, dirty nails up to her face, hovering over her cheek.

“Because I don’t like it here.” As she moves back, she can feel the internal tug of the figure. 

“You know you’d be accepted here.”

“What?”

“You know,” It hisses, “because your mother doesn’t care about you.”

Ellie’s eyes widen. “What did you just say?”

With It’s unblinking eye, the figure doesn’t hesitate. “Your mother doesn’t care about you, but we will. We will be your family and friends.”

Ellie looks down at her feet, her mind swimming in circles as she gets dizzier and dizzier.

“You won’t feel the way you feel right now. You won’t be afraid. You will love it here. You will be loved here.” It hisses through It’s non-existent teeth. It holds out It’s blood-stained hand.

She moves towards the figure. She can’t deny the fact that she is considering it. She wouldn’t have to return to her old life. She wouldn’t have to repeat the same day over and over, with her mother being disappointed with her over and over. What does she have to lose? But she hesitates. 

Ellie tries to peer past the fog that hovers over her mind. The figure is telling a somewhat truth; it is how she feels after all. But it’s not the full truth. She knows that buried deep inside she has some strength to escape. Some will to live. Her mother might not care, but she knows someone does. Whether that be Will, or herself, someone has to care. Or is at least willing to care. 

“No.” 

“What did you just say?” The figure’s face contorts. Mouth gaping. Eyes wide. Fingers gripping her wrist. “Stay here!”

Ellie grapples at the wall, trying to find something to help her. The wall is jagged, a sharp point jutting out. She clasps onto something and wiggles it. It’s loose. She dislodges the bone from the wall. A deep bellowing echoes through the belly of the cave as she pulls it out. She strikes the figure’s hand. It makes a gurgling noise that vibrates through the floor. It lets go.

Ellie takes her chance. She sprints back the way she came. Surely, she can find the way out. Blood oozes out of the walls, slowly filling the floor with its thick consistency. Twisting figures glide through, rising through the murky depths and nipping at her feet. Slowing her down. Dragging her down.

She tries one more time to get through the slurry of blood. She wants her mum, she wants the safety she felt as a child, she wants to go to school, she wants to see Will again. She wants to be free.

A figure grasps her neck and lifts her up. She grabs at their hands. Their nails dig in. She gasps and gurgles. She can’t breathe. Kicking, she tries to writhe free. No use. The figure throws her down into the sludge.

A crowd of figures surround her. They pull her back, grabbing, touching, groping. Ellie shuts her eyes, hoping that it isn’t real.

She opens her eyes. The vibrant kitchen light shines down on her, illuminating the entire room and filling her vision with happiness. She can feel water trickling down her face. 

“Are you okay?” Will says with a worried expression. “I had to throw water on you, you were burning up.”

She gets up off the floor, vaguely remembering that she cut her finger.

“I’m okay,” Ellie mumbles.

The first aid kit is in the top left cupboard next to the reusable bags that her mum always hoards. She grabs it and bandages her finger.

“Are you sure? You were out for like–” He counts on his fingers– “Two minutes!”

She looks at him, water still dribbling down her chin. “Weird. It felt like forever but also like nothing happened.”

“Should we go to the hospital just in case?” Will suggests.

“No, it’s fine.”

“Well, at least you’re okay now. Let’s go watch that weird dog thing you were watching.” Will giggles as he walks back into the living room.

She’s not hungry anymore. She goes and sits in the living room with her best friend and tries to relax.

Yet, she wishes she didn’t feel the way that she feels. Afraid. Unloved.

The shadow has creeped into her.