I awoke to the smiling face of my father.
“Wake up, sunflower. Come see the dye I made.”
His face swam out of sight and the bedding slipped away from me. The scents of home brought warm feelings with them: baking bread, the hot metal of the blacksmith, the smell of goats and sheep.
My brother laughed and tugged on my hair, making me look at the bug he found. My mother sang to me, her hands softly combing my hair and covering my eyes. I tasted the meat pie that was offered to me, biting down on flaky crust and savoury filling. Then I chased my brother down the street, feeling the sun-warmed path beneath my feet.
As we ran, a man reached down and scooped up a piece of my brother’s shoulder.
Another girl grabbed my hand, taking it with her.
Two women sat staring at us, expressions intense. My cheeks burned, like I was the one doing something wrong.
Another woman seized a chunk of my brother’s head. He twisted to look back at me in surprise before falling down.
I was pushed out of the way as strangers rushed towards him. They gathered in close and began plucking away at him.
I pleaded with them to stop but they ignored me.
And once their frenzy was over and my brother was gone, cleaned off the ground like pig feed, they looked over their shoulders at me. Mouths salivating. Eyes full of anger and fear. The moon rose and they descended upon me like plague rats.
—
I awoke to the smiling face of my father.
“Wake up, sunshine.”
Part of his tongue was missing. His face vanished and the bedding was pulled away from me. The smells of the town brought comfort: the aroma of garlic, meat, and the pungent scent of the dyes my father made.
My brother pulled on my hair, making me look at the bug he found. It wriggled, splaying its legs in the air, wings pulled from its body. My mother sang to me softly, combing my hair, pulling out the knots, and then covering my eyes. I tasted meat, warm and salty. Then I chased my brother, feeling the stones beneath my feet as we ran around town.
As we ran, a man reached down and tripped my brother.
He fell and the people crowded around him, taking what they wanted.
“Stop!” I cried out. But they didn’t listen.
They stole dark glances at me, twitching their noses.
Once they were finished with my brother, they turned to me. I tried to run and felt them take my legs. Then they clawed away my back, my neck, the back of my scalp, and then my eyes.
—
I awoke to the face of my father.
“Wake up.”
Parts of his face were missing, a blurry smudge where once there were lively details. His face fell away and the bedding was ripped out from around me. The smells of the town were overwhelming: a mixture of sweat and metal, the butcher’s meat freshly cut, the smell of animal shit.
My brother pulled my hair and I felt a bug crawl onto my head. A woman sang to me, touching my hair, smoothing it down before using it to cover my eyes. I bit down on something juicy and bitter, the juices running down my neck. I chased my brother, feeling cold stone beneath my feet.
Familiar people followed us. They seized my brother and I watched him be pulled apart, bit by bit, one finger at a time.
I screamed and fell into a dark hole.
—
I awoke to the corpse of my father.
“Wake,” he said. “There’s nothing for you here.”
Clawed hands seized my father and dragged him away. I smelt things I shouldn’t know of: the smell of human fear, the scent of blood in my nose and in my mouth.
My hair was infested with bugs. A woman sang to me and I saw her twisted hands with too many joints, wriggling like mealworms. She tried to dig her nails into my eyes and I bit down on her fingers, feeling the juices run down my neck.
I ran and ran until I came across my brother. His legs twitched as his insides were scooped out of him. The faces around him didn’t look so human anymore. They had all the features of familiar people and yet when I met their eyes I thought, what good is in you?
—
I awoke to my father frowning.
—
I awoke to my father trying to smile, but his teeth were gone.
—
I awoke to my father smiling at someone that wasn’t me.
—
I awoke to…
How many times had I dreamt this dream?
—
I awoke to nothing but a sharp needling pain in my chest.
That was new.
It stung in a way that none of the dreams had. My father was nowhere to be seen.
The pain spread and soon became unbearable. My eyelids cracked open like eggshells. This wasn’t right. The pain wasn’t coming from within. It came from far away, from a place I had once lived and called home. That glassy blue marble spinning in the void.
How many years ago had I lived? How long had it been since I’d bothered to have hope? I had promised myself that things would change.
There was a girl crying. I turned my head to better hear her. Her heart was broken and she anguished at the loss that had torn it asunder. Her cries reached up into the heavens. Her pain, her sadness reaching across the infinite emptiness to pull me from centuries of slumber.
She cried at the unfairness of her struggle. She cried because she had just wanted to live and the people had shoved her aside and labeled her a monster. She cried of loneliness. She cried because her closest friend was dead.
Her tears plucked strings inside of me and the thrum began to rouse, building the low notes of an anger beginning anew.
A wound reopened, just as fresh as when it was first gouged into my soul.
She wept and I knew.
The world had not changed.
“It is time, my Goddess,” a voice spoke from the burbling blackness beneath.
I reached out and Shaped with a power that had fully become a part of me. The great Shape that housed my wrath began its journey back to Earth and I lowered myself down from the throne.
Hair like golden threads knit together into an opulent coat, the fibres moving like muscle, brimming with the vibrations of the thrum.
I spoke with the entire Shape, letting my purpose flow into every atom of this entity, “You all had your chance to change. Now your time is up.”
My voice turned to a snarl as the crystals around me began to melt. The creatures that had been encased within were loosed, piano wires whipping free, thrumming with resonant chords. What was once a thrum became a roar that came from the throats of thousands. They had been born for this purpose: to ensure my anger was felt.
I stretched, feeling the strength in my muscles, aching to be used.
Then I made a new promise to myself.
“I will not sleep again until each and every last one of humankind has been unmade.”