I have no words. Yesterday I found a beautiful parcel delivered at my doorstep, in my sister's handwriting. She has been missing since she was sixteen years old, and I really do not know what to make of it, here it is:
I woke up here. I don't know where I am. I don't know what my name is. I don't know how old I am, but I look around 19. Though I think I might be much, much, older than that. The place I am in seems ancient. It looks like ancient Mayan architecture, with grey, stony, stepped pyramids, with intricate details in the middle. There are mud huts around the Mayan temple, and this is where I seem to be held captive. I am writing this note using some kind of primitive pencil which is simply some lead like substance that you hold, and on what looks like a canvas, not an art canvas, but something that was actually made of animal hide. I think I might be in some parallels dimension, but I'm not sure. I'm also not sure whether these people think of me as a goddess, or a demon.
I arrived here yesterday, I think I washed up on the shore, because I was soaking wet, though fortunately I was still wearing my jeans and shirt. I had no memory of my past life, I did not remember the day, or even my name. I panicked, perhaps I had some sort of mental illness? Or maybe I had drowned? Had I drowned? I could not remember what I was doing before. If I had drowned and then somehow survived that, perhaps I was brain damaged, and maybe I did not have much time before I died. So I started to head back towards the mud huts, funnily enough, I did not feel unusual in any way.
I was exhausted from walking a mile in the hot sun, and was so glad to be able to arrive at some sort of civilization. As I approached the village, I found it very odd that it was so quiet and there was no one on the streets. I walked towards one of the mud huts, because I was already here and this was my only option. As I reached the door, my blood ran cold, and I began to shake. The hut itself was normal looking but the wooden door had my face etched on it. Was I meant to be here? Was I part of some kind of experiment? Did these people abduct me? 1^2, 2^2, 3^2, trying to do basic math tended to calm me down somewhat, and I needed some kind of peace at the moment so I could think logically. Okay so worst case scenario, I was abducted. Well negotiating and seeing what these people want is the only way I can get back to wherever I'm from. So I decided to bang on the door.
"Hello" I screamed, and there was no response.
"HELLO" I screamed louder and began to kick the door. I started to kick the hinges while I was at it. I banged on the door with all my might, until my hands bled, I wanted an answer damnit. I banged until I saw the skin slowly peel of my hands, my blood flowing down and staining the floo, and the windows. I started to kick at the hinges next, I didn't care about the stinging, searing pain that flowed through my body, as if you stubbed your toe but ten times worse. I didn't care if my toes began to break, when they began to take on weird twisted abnormal positions, I kicked and punches as though I was possessed, apathetic to my bones snapping. When the door finally broke off, my blood was everywhere, my hands no longer resembling hands, their skin pink rather than brown, the flesh worn off, I was missing a nail, and even my wrists were drenched in the blood flowing from my hands, and my feet were blood messes of their own. My bloody footprints were testament to my insanity as I walked into the mudhut. It was small, and I could not see anything at first, it was so dark. It was around the size of a starters college room, if someone was hiding, there was not a lot of space for them. There was no floor, it was simply just made of mud, and it was so silent I could hear my bloody legs squelching.
There was very little furniture, a small round wooden table in the center of the hut, and a rag on the left side. There was some food on the front of the rag, and a curled ball that moved. I approached it further, knowing it was likely someone who was hiding, and I poked at them, my blood staining their clothes. They looked up at me, it was a woman with long brown hair, brown eyes that were now very wide from seeing me, and a very wide mouth, that was becoming wider by the minute. She then let out the most blood curling scream I've heard, like a woman who just gave birth and had a miscarriage. She genuinely looked terrified and devasted, and I stepped back, not wanting to terrify her any further. She took her chance, and sprinted out, I was too shocked to do anything, and I was so exhausted from knocking that I just collapsed on the rag that was her bed.
The next morning, I woke up to my dried up blood, and twisted hands and feet, and to the searing pain that followed whenever I tried to use my hands or my legs. Half of my nails were missing too. I had shelter now, which I did not have before, and by the rag, there was some bread. I ate it, it tasted like it was fresh. I tried to process what happenned the day before, the lady screamed and ran like she was scared for her life. My face was on the fucking door. Perhaps I am a monster. Perhaps I am what is to be feared. I am not sure why they fear me. Perhaps I could find some answers in this mud hut. No one seems to be bothering me so far. My gaze returned to the round table, and I noticed something that I hadn't last night. It was a book, almost holy looking, with a mesmerizing intricate cover, of golden roses, it was more mesmerizing than anything I could have imagined. I almost felt guilty putting my blood stained hands on it, I opened it and it was all illustrations of me. I was too numb, and exhausted to feel scared, but I knew damn well that I should. It was illustrations of exactly what was happening, a girl with jeans and long brown hair washed up on the shore, a girl walking towards mud huts, a girl screaming and banging on one of the mud huts, a girl reading this, my curiousity won and I read further, villagers running towards the ancient temple, I suppose it was a kind of refuge. I saw the inside of the temple now, I saw the people gathered around a rectangular table that the woman was on, my blood stain on her clothes still very clear, she was bound by thick ropes, and she had the same agonized expression on her face.
On the next few pages, they were burning her alive, as they seemed to be chanting to a mantle of me. They placed her charred corpse, on the mantle of me. Was that supposed to be an offering? Why were they so afraid of me? As I read further, I saw the images change, the people were all screaming and sobbing gathered around my mantle, almost as if they were begging, pleading for my mercy. I could not bear to read anymore, I put the book down. Was this a prophecy of some sort? Some kind of instructions for the end times? I had to know more, and I was almost tempted to go into the temple, to see these people. Was I going to meet them? What was I going to say I was not sure.
My body was aching, begging me to not try to look at the rest of their village, but I was terrified, and my terror got worse when I was inside the mud hut, rotting. I ventured out, and I limped into the adjacent mud hut, to my suprise, it swung wide open. I limped to the other one, which also swung wide open, and so did the other ones around me. When I glanced at the tall Mayan looking temple, I could see the smoke coming out of the its roof, smelling burned, like charred meat, it smelled like someone burning rotting meat, utterly disgusting. They were burning that woman alive, and they were all at the temple. I raced into one of the mudhuts and slam the door shut. All of the round tables looked the exact same, with the same fucking book on the table. I skipped over what I had already seen and looked at the future pages, it was me fainting, and then it was two men in rabbit masks and golden robes,enveloping my body in a golden cloth, and then it was me in the temple where I am writing this now. I did not get time to read more since I think I must have fainted from either stress, exhaustion, or whatever was in that bread.
