Lost Angeles - Fall

The world had become a very isolating and lonely place ever since I lost my past. I had been walking through the forest for weeks on my way to a new life. A better life, free from the burdens of my past. The items I carried in my duffel bag (my waterlogged phone, my watch, money) didn’t prove to be too useful outside of a knife, a lighter, and old photos that I used as kindling, which were distorted by the water anyway. I found my way forward through my own survival skills and determination. Society gave me nothing to prepare me for something like this and, despite that, I was getting on fairly well. However, I couldn’t satisfy my need for human connection on some emotional level.

I was weary of walking and wondering what was next for me. Where would my life continue? How could my life continue? My constant search for a meaning to my life had grown tiresome, and I was losing hope there would ever be anything that could give my life purpose.

My fleeting attempts at finding a future were dwindling, and all the energy I could muster would manifest into a small fire I would light every night in hopes of finding someone. Finding something. Every morning, however, I would wake up to the sunlight shining through the branches and my hope extinguished. Until that night, when I finally found the sign that I was desperate for.

My tired eyes closed like every other night, after staring into the fading light of my fire. When they opened next, the sky was still black, but there was a familiar light in the distance. Given all I had been through, I was wary of this unknown light, but I was desperate for something new in my life. So, I packed my collection of items and started towards it.

I walked for what seemed like hours and didn’t seem to be getting much closer, and while the light seemed like a lucid mirage, it remained resolute ahead of me. I was so focused on the light that I almost didn’t notice the feeling of the ground changing beneath my feet. The subtle crunching of the leaves and snapping of tree branches had become much more muted. The forest, too, seemed to change as the trees decreased in quantity the further I walked - until I reached a clearing.

In this clearing, a haze had overtaken the ground and the trees had been swapped out by strange, blackened structures of wood in piles about as high as my waist. I could still hear the crackle of the water escaping from the fibers, knowing that a fire had recently passed through. And I finally had a better sight of the light I was seeing before. It was no longer a stationary beacon in the distance but was much closer. I could see flames dancing through the sky, as if waltzing through the trees.

While it was hard to make out from the distance across the clearing, I could see shadowy figures walking beneath the flames underneath the burning wooden skyline. These creatures walked on two legs but had no discernable heads or faces. The veil of the night made their seemingly amorphous body shapes nearly impossible to visually separate from the background.

As I crept closer to get a better view of what was happening, the scene distorted into a nightmare. Within the flames, I saw wooden huts that were built into the forest, likely built by others that had made the same trek as me looking for a clean start away from the city. The tree branch walls and thatched roofs blazed a crimson red and thick black smoke flooded the sky blocking out the full moon. Surrounded by flame, all paths into and out of the camp were blocked. So, it burned. There was no reckoning with the flames. I had no choice but to helplessly stand back and witness the travesty unfold. The roar of the fire felt deafening, only accompanied by the faint sound of high-pitched noises that I couldn’t tell whether were from someone still trapped inside or from the trees relinquishing all the strength they had left.

It was the coldest fire I had ever felt. Buried in the horror of the scene, my eyes caught movement and I saw the form of one of the figures shift. An uneasy feeling grew in the pit of my stomach, and as I looked at the figure, I felt like I was being watched back. Like it could see right through my soul. As my eyes left the first figure, I noticed it appeared all the figures seemed to be looking at me. Staring. Waiting. Motionless. Now moving. Now running. Helpless, I did the only thing I could do and began to run as well.

Stumbling over branches and rocks, I fled as fast as I could. While my body pleaded with me to stop, my mind knew the sheer amount of danger I could be in. As my body was failing, my mind refused to give up on reaching somewhere safe - if a place like that actually existed.

Then, my vision went black.

My eyes shot open in panic to see the sun rising. My heart still racing, I whipped my head around to survey my surroundings. There was no visual presence of any fire. I questioned myself since it felt so real. The flames. The creatures. The stench of smoke. It all felt so tangible. But in my awakened state, all evidence told me otherwise. Despite a slight uncanny feeling buried in my gut, a small sense of peace came over me, knowing it must have been a vivid dream.

Burying that unease from the dream with a newfound sense of optimism, I pressed on like I had done every day, hoping I would find something. The dream and what it could mean made this day feel different. The ground felt new, I could see the path clearer, and ahead there was a foreign sight.

Through the branches, I could see another clearing, but not like the one I had seen in my nightmare. This one was real and there looked like there were buildings beyond the line of the trees. I picked up the pace of my walk to hurry to reach the end of this forest. The end of this unknown. Maybe I finally would be able to start anew and find some purpose.

Reaching the edge of the forest was like standing at the edge of a precipice looking ahead at my new life. I overlooked a town. It was a sizable town from what I could gather. As I pressed forward, I chose to leave my duffel bag at the edge of the forest, worried I might look suspicious, and transferred all I could carry into my pockets.

I began to walk down the street, looking for any signs of life. The neighborhood seemed extremely quiet, however, and there was not a soul walking about. Surrounded by white picket fences, each yard perfectly manicured, each street a phalange to a maze. But instead of welcoming lights in the windows of the homes of a populated village, behind those fences I saw darkness. I kept walking block by block down the street to find anything.

“Hey you!!” I almost jumped out of my skin. This was the first voice I had heard in ages that was not my own. I quickly turned around, preparing the story for who I am and the journey I’ve been on, although I knew no one would ever believe me.

“You’re going the wrong way. The parade is that way,” said the man pointing down the crossroad at the intersection I had just passed.

Fearing he might be wary of a stranger and being a little fearful myself, I thanked him and turned to walk towards the direction he pointed me in to avoid conflict.

As I walked, I saw more people walking in this direction as well, as if making a pilgrimage to this parade. I heard conversations of joy and merriment as we all made our way through the streets towards the city center. I chose to keep my head down. Being an outsider, I felt uncomfortable and camouflaged myself within the masses.

When we reached what must have been our destination, it seemed like nearly the whole town was gathered here. It was enough to make anyone feel overwhelmed. Particularly for me, having been so isolated, I felt an incredible amount of stress and unease being surrounded by so many. My hearing was fading in and out and my head was pulsing. I could hear joyous yelling and chanting but could not make out the subject of these chants. I tried to stand up taller to catch a glimpse of anything to give me context of what was occurring.

Through the throngs of people, I saw signs and billboards. Posters hanging off buildings all with similar shapes and imagery that seemed familiar, but I couldn’t quite piece it together.

As I stood there and slowly reoriented myself to this strange occasion in this drastically foreign environment, I started picking out words from the raucous chanting and screaming.

“Forest”

“Vagrants”

“Land”

And the most damning of them all -

“Fire”

Being inundated with all the signs and propaganda surrounding me, I felt the gravity of what I had the great misfortune to stumble upon. It was a rally celebrating the removal of “vagrants” living in the forest. Removal by fire. Removal by death. But these people didn’t see it that way. They only saw it as a means to get rid of a problem. A problem of “resource shortages.”

It seems the town had taken up issue with people in the forest “using up resources and land” that they wanted to use. And while it seemed there was plenty around for everyone to use, they didn’t see it that way. Burning out the forest was a means to clear land for future housing development and clearing away any obstacles that stood in their way – even people.

And the shadow creatures were their heroes. They were people in suits carrying tanks of gasoline to spread over the brush to help spread the fire and rid the town of their “problem”.

Emotionally taxed and physically drained, I became numb. I stood in the crowd for the remainder of the day. Not that I wanted to, but because I had no will to move. No will to do anything. Despite that being my first time being surrounded by other people in ages, I hadn’t felt more alone than in that moment - and my mind didn’t escape that alone state.

As the day grew darker, the celebration did not stop. If anything, it grew with even more people gathered in the town center. Then I heard a voice shout, “Someone found a bag at the edge of the forest! They said there were survival tools in it. Looks like we’ve got a vagrant walking among us!”

The words shot through my daze, and I knew I needed to get away from this place. From these people. I backed away from the crowd knowing it would only be a matter of time before the words spread and they would be searching for me.

I escaped the parade and hurried down the street surrounded by small offshoots of the rally. I felt the eyes of the world staring right through me. The people in this world no longer made sense to me. I hated them. I hated them for their flawed opinions. Their unfounded beliefs in what was so clearly wrong. I hated them because I could see my own flaws in them. But most of all, I hated them because they hated me. Even if they didn’t know it.

I wanted to flee that wretched place. That island city. But where could I go? Like an animal being hunted, I was cornered.

I found and checked in at an extended stay hotel. While this place was my antithesis, I knew I no longer had a home to return to and I needed to hide until the hunting party dispersed.

I walked up to my room on the 12th, closed the door behind me, and regressed. The days would get shorter, and the nights would get colder. The clouds would come, and snow would begin to fall and bury the life of the earth and further bury my hope. But unlike the earth, I didn’t know if that hope would fully ever thaw out again.

I always suffer from the face in their empty mirrors

Complex refractions of what I fear

They reflect the darkest parts of me

That I don’t want to see

Painting all my imperfections

Flawlessly

Finding myself lost again

Waning purpose I wax poetic

To hide the truth behind my eyes

I know you are but what am I?

Just a grotesque outline of who I should be

But how could you know me

When I don’t even know myself.

Every day it takes a little more away from me

It’s eating at my soul

And I have no control

I always suffer from the face in their empty mirrors

Complex refractions of what I fear

They reflect the darkest parts of me

That I don’t want to see

Painting all my imperfections

Flawlessly

Perfect bodies perfect minds

Perfect souls but no face behind their empty mirrors

Sincerity’s cast into fools gold

Just to be bought and sold

That’s why I

I always suffer from the face in their empty mirrors

Complex refractions of what I fear

They reflect the darkest parts of me

That I don’t want to see

Painting all my imperfections

Flawlessly