Out of Body

I looked over at my body. I gazed around the bedroom. An azure haze, with the thickness of fog, encompassed everything. Light crept through the mouldings around the door. I walked forward and placed my hand on the knob. An unnaturalness washed over me so I swiftly let go.

“Do not go gentle into that good night.”

The mundane of the everyday snuck up on me like the cold, scaly, slither of a snake; coiling its muscles around my torso; tightening its grip each time I exhaled. My chance to escape was when I envisioned a world, where wonder and extraordinaire were abound and the norm. I flew over mountain tops and vast canyons of rock and rubble.I jumped from leaf to leaf on vines that curled along the trunks of thousand year old trees, in thousand year old forests. Fauna listened to my every unspoken word. The Mariana Trench veiled a lost Atlantean culture.

I would wake up,and the articles around me no longer had a glimmer. They were rough,  gaunt, melancholy, brackish. I would walk to the train station; wait at the tram stop.I would attend classes and ignore their lessons. Walk to the tram stop. Wait at the train station.

During my spare hours I had delved into the unknown, the unusual, the unseen; possession, near death experiences, astral projection. I consumed all these phantasmagorias, and my own wild thoughts enjoyed the possibilities. They whirled about,transfiguring my own theories, what ifs, hopes into wisps of outlandish notions.

And it was all infinite.


I am faraway again.The glimmer encompasses everything I see, touch, smell. Ecstasy. I am not on Earth tonight. I wrap myself up in nebulas of amethyst, sapphire, jade, ruby, garnet. I swallow comets and exhale moon dust.I set foot on Kepler-438b—

The azure returns. I stare at my cadaver.Everything is fuzzy; my irises refuse to focus. The door calls to me; I am magnetised. I place my ear on the wood. Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap.

I push back.

I wake up nauseous, groggy, head-swollen. Maybe I should stop.

I am advised to attend a meeting with the school counsellor. I don’t tell her anything. I might be crazy. She asks if I am eating enough vegetables. I tell her I like tomatoes. She informs me tomatoes are a fruit.

I sit outside on a crumbling, sodden picnic bench, and I unwrap my tomato sandwich. Girls in barely-there uniforms scamper pass. They don’t want to dirty their exposed legs on a damp bench. I take out my medicine and wash it down with flat Coke, and forget about the prosaicness.

A small child cries in the corner. Her tears are vermilion. They pool beneath her toes. My body is not on the bed. Azure everywhere. I listen at the door. Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap—


I shoot awake still screaming. I don’t stop. My mother tells me to shut the fuck up as she punches our shared wall.

“Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”


A deluge drenches my hair, my uniform, my shoes. An announcement states the train is delayed. A puddle forms around my feet.

My murky, fractured self, stares back at me.

I only feel when I am dreaming.

My aunt’s friend’s daughter said she was probed by aliens; she’s in the loony bin now!

I try to see through my sodden black strands as to who was talking at me. An echoed giggle tells me the girl has scurried off. Irritant. I scratch at my soggy skin, and re-open some scabs. Ir..ri..tant.

No one tells me the last class is cancelled. Public transport is conveniently delayed, so I hide in the rotting gazebo, in the narrow park opposite school. The grass is muddy and grey,the playground absent and the street quiet.

Rain makes people hide so monsters can come out and play.

Finally. I can dream again.


Wake up…wake up!

Flashlights bore through my eyelids as I unstick my top and bottom lashes from each other. I hear multiple muffled voices, and the scratching of radio frequencies. The smell of freshly polished boots invades my nostrils. The officer sits me upright. He informs me I was scaring civilians who had entered the park, with their fancy dogs for their fancy evening walks. The rain had ceased as the sun begins its restful state; shadows desolating its light.

The officer asks me how high I am. I don’t tell him anything. My insolence offends him so he vigorously pulls me up, tells me if I was to struggle I would be handcuffed, and proceeds to direct me to his car. His overweight partner, who I had not noticed before,claims my schoolbag which had been sitting in a motley puddle stagnant water and soggy rubbish.

What seems like hours pass. I feel so dizzy in the back seat I barely understand what the vigorous officer is telling me. Something about my mother owing him a favour. I don’t think much of the words coming out of his mouth, because the fat officer sitting next to me keeps rubbing his hand up and down my thigh. Acid escalades its way up my throat, so I lean forward. The fat officer growls at me to dare not fucking puke, whilst I am shoving his hands away. My body starts shaking. I tell the brute driving that I am cold. He tells me I will warm up soon.


Gravity is absent this time. Crumpled fragments of paper drift in the air like fractured baubles. Furniture hovers ever so delicately. A light source leaves warping droplets of penumbras all over the walls, through the frayed curtains.

Still no body, and now, no little girl.

And no tapping.

I float to the door, and place my ear on it once more.


I wake up gasping for breath. My muscles throb, and my stomach spasms in a way worse than withdrawal. The acid resurfaces and I regurgitate, spewing all over myself. I groan. I cry. I hear my mother’s shrill voice in the next room telling me to shut the fuck up again. I am in my bedroom. I shriek.


Shut up or you can get out!

I autonomously whack my fist against the melting window pane next to me. Shards sprinkle my arm, the sill, and onto the defiled mattress. I hear thunderous footsteps down the hall, and my mother thrusts my door open so hard the knob embeds into the cracked plaster.

You stupid little whore!

I fling myself at her, still shrieking. A solid shard pierces her skin. Once. Twice. I keep piercing. Cherry liquid cascades down her legs. Pools at her toes. I force myself off her, collapsing into the pool.

Dawn crawls through the frayed curtains.

Dots of shadows dancing with the breeze.

Finally. I can dream again.

Original Photo by Skitterphoto