The Forsaken Garden (Page Three)

You quickly accept the pants from your older brother to replace the wet pair one leg at a time in the kitchen. Your father walks out of the hallway into the kitchen towards you. Your father says, “Well young lady, it’s time for you to sleep. We have an important day to fulfill tomorrow.” You snuggle into your father’s arms as he carries you away into your bedroom.

In your bedroom your father places you under your sheets and tucks you in comfortably. He stops to give you a gentle kiss on your forehead which makes you smile with comfort. You cover your head with the sheets to make it seem as though you had fallen quickly to sleep. After your father had taken the bait he turns around towards the door and begins to exit as you watch him in secrecy. You wait silently till it is while past his departure.

Your father left the door open to ensure easy surveillance for the household guardians. You are upset because all the family after having cleaned up your mess enjoyed portions of berry cobbler that would have been inherently yours. You quietly creep from underneath the sheets to the open doorway. You know from experience that doors in the household screech when being tampered with. At your highest effort you slowly but hastily close the door of your room. Despite your precautions, you are unable to prevent the door from shattering the silence of night with its sharp screech. Upon the recognition your senses are attuned as you wait for your parents to discover what it is that you are doing with door. To your surprise no one comes and you are clear to completely close the door.

You calmly return to your bed without covering yourself under the sheets yet. You lay upon your back staring upwards to the dark overcastted ceiling. As you lay you ponder. Your tensions that connote to the stresses of waking day life relax and open the potential to deeper more mysterious fancies. You ponder. You ponder. You ponder. Before your actual sight you visualize a pattern emerging of shapes and designs of the unique, bizarre, and peculiar nature.

Looming from the background there is a deep blue, a sky at night.
Scattered stars resist the darkness. Chimerical lights, surreal and absurd, become and ebb, become and ebb, become and ebb. It is within your phantasmagoric-whelmed fantasies. You visualize erratic tunnels of streaming light twisting into an uncertain destiny. Carrying you as a dandelion seed in the blithe gale. The stars assuming astral impossibilities, distorting to invisible forms, becoming horrid sores for your mind’s eye. Here you are vulnerable, susceptible to whimsical biddings.