It is dark everywhere, a redness exists from somewhere in this densely covered sky.
We have been lost in the black jungle for what feels like two days. Jungle…not really the word to define this place but the closest adjective. It is dark everywhere, a redness exists from somewhere in this densely covered sky. Where we walk there are roots and branches, tall trees that seem almost black or variation of it.
It does not smell of plants or trees, in fact I am not even sure if this is air we are inhaling. The more we walk the more I feel myself being further from the life I had known before entering the dark passage. Which I still cannot understand how I got there to begin with. I fear that Cook is leading me to my demise. But part of me still feels that this is a dream, a nightmare that I will awaken from.
I know deep down that it is not. That I am here in this chaotic realm without answers, with no one willing to grant them.
The shadows that live here follows us constantly, manoeuvring somewhere in the blackness that is condemned to live in this place that a living mucus of decay and darkness. What is in here is already dead, nothing is composed and everything is a mere apparition of what was and can be no more.
Like a void in time and space, this black jungle is hollow yet filled, silent yet loud, thick yet so thin that I almost feel the skin being peeled from my flesh. Hatred and insanity lives in this place as the fatal reminder to those walking its earth that there is never an escape from the darkness of this world.
Mr Cook and I have not spoken much since we ran into this jungle of furious blackness. I think he is avoiding me, avoiding more questions.
But I will remain silent, whatever he knows I will know soon. There is something in his eyes every time he looks at me, as though he knows a great deal more than he occasionally let’s escape.
He has a look on his face, he knows something. There is something he is not telling me, something he holds to himself waiting for god knows what before unleashing to me. I realize more and more with each sentence or glare from his eyes that inside that look on his face, inside the silence between us lays a fear, a fear not of this place of its ghosts, but a fear of me.
Keeping this journal of thoughts feels almost pointless, I know I will not survive this place or its macabre madness. Soon this weight inside of my body will crumble me and I too will turn to the black ink remains of what was, and what lost to the darkness.
I don’t trust him, yet I do at the same time. Like everything else here, I am conflicted.
In this black jungle I fear each step I take, for I do not know what it is that lurks here in this black coating that is this jungle, and I long terribly for sanity to return to me. For my bedroom, my carpet, my job, my life that I had felt so wrongly burdened with. I long for my life, everything about it. I am tired of feeling fear and confusion.I didn't way to say this before, not to Cook or even put the words here in this journal — once my work diary where I kept all things relevant to time. But there is something about this place that feels familiar.
Perhaps I have been here in a dream? None the less; I am not alone here.
Dense and more raw in substance of blackness and apparition, this jungle is really cold. Of all the stories by those the family stumbled on in this god forsaken place, I have never heard of anyone crossing this black place.
Rekara is wearing down, becoming more and more broken by the darkness. Although there is still too much of the coded signature existing inside of him that he fails to really see where he is, and why he is seeing what he sees. I pity him because I don’t think he is meant to be here yet.
I am young, and I am not wise on this world. But I gather enough about Rekara to assume things I should maybe not be assuming.
One thing is for sure, Rekara must remember how he came to the passageway because once he can, I will know whether or not I am foolish now or very privileged and he himself will know why he is here. If he could just remember!
Although we do not speak much now, I sense a lot inside of him and I guess it’s best for us to maintain a distance right now. He needs to sort out his thoughts and memories that deceive him so greatly. One thing I am certain about is this, Rekara found his way into that passage of damnation and the wave, that menacing hand of life that brings us pitiful souls here to be taken and sacrificed, caught him by mistake. Rekara is not ready to be here yet and I don’t know how I can help him, especially since I somewhat fear the truth that may possibly lay within him.
I myself am here because of the choice I made.
A choice I didn’t realize would result in me being chased into that passageway, and now here. Rekara understands it, yet can’t see why he is here and this he must do in order to have questions answered.
I am here because the face inside of me made that decision. It chose the reality of life, not some lie that I found myself accepting, but the truth. The truth where nightmares are a reality and the darkness stirs. You are not unique. I realized I had a choice to change my world, my life, my existence. I didn't want to return to the life I knew, the life I was made to think I was meant for. I wanted freedom. Now that I'm here, well, I realize the darkness and demons are coming for me, they can smell my fear of them. But I'm not alone.
The Chronicles continue in part 12....
Copyright Lynel Coetzer 2009. For more visit www.lynelcoetzer.co.za