Wind and dreams
1777 Words
*Tala*
I tread the trail that skirts the football fields, a stone wall running parallel on the opposite side. I am struck by the vibrant greenery that surrounds me, on the cusp of blooming. Wild daisies stand out against the gray stones, their presence a soft hum in the background.
Drawing in a breath, the floral perfume from a nearby cemetery fills my senses, coaxing out a content smile. Here, I am unburdened. No hazel-eyed boys to distract me, no best friends swathed in too much black. Just the arrival of spring, a canvas of green and yellow splashed before me. I pause, extending my arms and spinning in place, relishing in my freedom, absorbing the environment as if seeing it for the first time.
A subtle movement from the corner of my eye pulls my attention - the breeze is teasing the treetops, making it appear as if they are swaying to a rhythm only they can hear. I wait for the expected ripple of motion to pass through the trees lining the path, but it doesn't come. Instead, the wind seems to keep pace with me, playing a gentle symphony in sync with my steps.
Emboldened, I start to sprint down the path, the wind matching my speed, keeping stride. The sensation fills me with an inexplicable joy, and I find myself laughing. As I reach the end of the path, I halt, panting, and glance back towards the stone wall. The wind has stilled, the trees frozen in place. Even towards the school, there is no indication of movement. A sudden chill of fear prickles at the back of my neck. Was it all in my imagination?
Upon arriving home to our small house, I have managed to persuade myself that there is a logical explanation for what I just encountered. Whether it's a rational explanation or a supernatural one, I trust the internet will clarify.
"Always remember, if it's not on the web, it doesn't exist," I mutter to myself as I switch on my laptop, echoing something Halyn always tells me.
Once it's fully booted up, I navigate to the internet and open up Google. What should I search for? Wind? I quickly type the word, eager to gain some insight.
'Win a Caribbean vacation' and 'Huge prizes in free competitions' pop up. Darn, I must have typed so fast I omitted the ‘d’. Maybe ‘wind’ wasn't the ideal term.
I recall the events on the path, but how can I put it into words? I type in 'wind' and scan the search results. I notice an online encyclopedia about wind. I click on it, finding many explanations but none about wind stalking a person.
The term ‘mythology’ catches my eye and I read, "In Greek mythology, the north wind is called Boreas, the south wind is Notos, the west wind is known as Zephyros, and the east wind is named Euros." Boreas is hyperlinked, so I click on it.
When that doesn't provide anything helpful, I go back and search 'wind native American legends’. Surely, somebody else must have experienced something similar? A myriad of results about weather, poetry, and other unrelated topics appear, none of which relate to my encounter. I flop onto my bed, exasperated.
What does it matter anyway? It was just a coincidence. It's my turn to cook dinner today, so I better check what my mother has taken out of the fridge.
As I'm about to shut down the computer, a sentence catches my eye. "Air is one of the four cardinal elements." Cardinal? What does that mean? I quickly search for "Four cardinal elements" and find links about nature religions, paganism, and something called wicca.
"Wind, fire, water, and air. The Four elements that flow through us all in practicing witchcraft," I read aloud. Witchcraft? I can't be turning into a witch. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I open the link.
The page unfolds, and words jump out at me: "love potions, fortune amulets, ritual tools." Each click fills me with excitement. It's like I can't get enough, as if it was meant for me to find. It wasn't a mere coincidence; it was waiting for me online. The wind, a vital component of witchcraft, could be conjured by a witch.
A knock on the door interrupts my fascination. My mom's head appears, "Hey Tala, aren't we having dinner today?"
I discreetly turn my laptop, hiding the screen, and glance at the clock. Oops, it's almost six. Have I really been lost in reading for over two hours?
"Sorry, Mom. I'll get started right away. I got caught up in a school assignment and lost track of time," I apologize, feeling guilty for lying.
"It's alright, sweetie. Homework comes first. We can just have sandwiches tonight," Mom says, smiling.
"Thanks, Mom, and I'm sorry for forgetting dinner," I say, closing the laptop and following her into the kitchen.
Fifteen minutes later I'm back on my laptop, after wolfing down a sandwich and telling my mom I had to get back to my homework. This time I have a pencil and writing pad beside me.
It seems like this Wicca is kind of like a religion. A belief in Nature and witchcraft is as old as mankind itself. Today it is called Wicca to avoid stupid questions, prejudice and being seen as devil worshippers. They are actually white witches or light magicians as some calls themself and it has nothing to do with black magic.
I rub my forehead feeling tired. There is so much information, a lot of them contradicting one another. I don't really know which to believe. All pages agree on one thing. There is a Goddess and a God above all others. A feminine and a masculine energy, connected like yin and yang. The Goddess is the moon and the God the sun and all things living are connected by a shared energy.
It has gotten dark outside, and I go to sit on the window sill looking at the moon. After everything I have read and learned, I feel like it is no longer just a shining orp. The moon, the Goddess, is the symbol of a power, something that pull at me from deep inside. I put my hand on the cool glass.
"So you are the Goddess," I whisper, feeling a calm fold around my heart.
The weird humming from the path is back and my eyes move from the moon to the bushes outside. They are rustling like in a hurricane and a sudden gust of wind against the window makes me jump slightly. Seconds later the wind is all but gone, everything quiet again.
I feel weird and a bit floored. The idea that I should be able to control the wind scares me and I hug myself as a cold flash runs down my spine. The room suddenly seems small and dark, so I hurry into the living room and my mother.
"It is so sad with that girl," My mom says, still looking at the tv screen.
"Which girl?" I sit down, and look at the screen, the news is on.
The journalist is standing in front of a police station looking very solemn, "The young woman from the town, who disappeared last thursday in the city center has been found dead tonight, the police is sure it was a murder," There is a picture of the young woman on the screen.
"It is horrible, poor parents," My mom says, looking at me like only mothers can. I know it means she is happy that I am safe. “I am happy it wasn’t someone here from the reservation though… and then I feel bad for thinking that.”
I nod, poor girl and poor parents, but I decide to change the topic. "Mom, do we have plans for the weekend?" I ask when the news is over. I kind of hope she will say yes, giving me a reason not to go with Halyn to Nosferatu.
"No, not anything I can think of. Why?" My mom says, looking at me.
"Well Halyn has invited me out to a club tomorrow. It’s in town. Would that be okay with you?" I say, not knowing what I hope for.
"Halyn?" My mom says with surprise. "So is it one of those… uhm goth places, is that what it is?"
"Yeah," I make a face.
My mom laughs softly, "Are you sure that is Your scene?"
"Well I have to try it to find out, right?" I shrug.
"Is this the time for me to tell you not to go home with any boys and never drink anything that you are unsure what is?" She asks.
I shake my head, "Not necessary, I am still not even sure I even dare go there at all."
"Tala darling, you can't stay at home forever. You are almost eighteen," She reaches out to squeeze my shoulders softly, "It will probably be healthy for you to get out a bit, even if I had prefered you stayed here in the reservation. Please just don't change all Your clothes for black okay?"
"So you don't think pitch black lipstic would be rad on me?" I say teasingly, "No, don't worry. I have to survive tomorrow first," Then I get up, and kiss my mom on the cheek, "Night mom."
***************************
In a mystical forest, I find myself immersed in a vivid dream. With bare feet touching the earth and the scent of trees filling the air, I wander through the towering pines as dusk settles in. Though unfamiliar, a sense of belonging embraces me, and the trees guide me towards my destined path.
Entering a secluded clearing, enclosed by the forest's guardians, I discover a stone circle atop a gentle hillock. Settling within its embrace, I find solace and security amidst the darkness. As I listen intently to the forest's symphony, I realize it sings to me. Closing my eyes, I respond with my own voice, merging seamlessly with the melodies. Joyfully, I raise my hands to the sky, as the wind caresses my hair and tenderly kisses my cheek.
From the depths of the underbrush, elusive beings emerge, shrouded by a thick mist that blankets everything. Their laughter and gentle songs fill the air, captivating my senses. Though their forms remain unclear, I feel their presence, and together we engage in a harmonious exchange of melodies.
Spinning with exhilaration, I am overwhelmed by an unparalleled connection and sheer bliss. This dream, so vivid and lifelike, transports me to a realm where reality and enchantment intertwine.
- Writer
