A Beautiful Nightmare
I take a step unto the soft purple foliage. The pond ripples an iridescent amber as the green fish flutter on by. The beasts of the sky display their proud holographic plumage as it glitters off from the moody blue sun. Slowly rising in the west, the sun forever paused in the peak of twilight. Tonight, the sun is a waxing crescent.
The blue cicadas sing the song of the rolling violet hills peppered with black wildflowers waving to me with the wind. I feel the gentle wind tease my hair, and it giggles in my ear guiding me toward the fields. The vibrant pink and deep blue sky points its wispy wingers to the beckoning fields. The striking gray eyes of the lion with its clear mane seem to tell me: “Go.”
And I went.
Through the grey waving fields, I glided my hands over the heads of barley with a delicate touch--one by one. They softly brushed my waist leading me toward an unknown point on the horizon. I lift my gaze and straight ahead. I heard them before I saw them.
The gentle trembling pulled my gaze to the horizon where I saw beautiful, magnificent horses. I could barely make out their strong necks and flowing manes as they drew near. The thundering hooves filled my ears and I was existing in a surrealist painting.
As the horses drew nearer and their shapes drew clearer, I stared-- in horror.
Their light arched backs grew muted white, cracked dry, and bent unnaturally; the spine protruded out from the green spider-like veins, threatening to break the coarse skin. The four muscled legs turned to not four legs but bony hands and feet grabbing at the dirt with such ferocity the bottom of their extremities seemed plunged in a vat of dirt, blood, and crushed gray barley. The elegant and smooth snouts morphed into ghastly faces devoid of hair and humanity. The hollows of their cheeks left sharp, jutting bone framing the deep sockets of where their eyes should have been.
Run.
I felt my legs starting to turn around and speed up faster and faster. The sky turned blood red as the once soft barley whipped at my waist pulling at my clothes, and I felt the wind push against me. I heard the cackle of the wind and I turned to look. They were close. I desperately clawed at the air in front of me for anything. Anything. The sky turned black.
Selah Youn is a member of the class of 2020.