The forest

   The eagle landed on top of the three, in a place towards the middle of the forest. The place was a sea of green; no piece of the ground below could be seen below the trees. However, it did not seem random that she chose the tallest tree to land and grab by the claws. She firmly stood there, looking around, waiting for something. She did not seem hungry or worried about any of her younglings. She just appeared to be making guard or something of the sort. She suddenly opened her wings and screamed.

 The sound out of her beak was not the one normally made by a bird, or an eagle or any kind of animal. The sound was strangely metallic, like something more suited to a robot or a creation of that sort. The bird made sounds for a while, alone in the middle of the forest. She then remained silent again, as clouds of storm formed above the forest. Shortly after, rain started washing away everything from the forest. The soil was turned into mud and the dead leaves were soon washed away by the flood.

 However, the forest was too silent during those moments. As the rain descended to the ground and then washed all the dirt away, no animals made sounds or tried to hide from the water. Actually, there was virtually no movement around the forest, except for the water rushing to the streams and the rivers. It was a land of trees deprived of any life. No bugs humming or squirrels hopping from one tree to the next. No other birds besides the eagle that still stood on top of the tree, being washed by the rain.

 The clouds above the forest where also strange, not moving or trembling as they produce thunder, but just frozen in the sky. The lights inside of them seemed artificial, as if they were being made on purpose instead of naturally produced by the ions and all of that. The colors of the clouds were also too perfect, too ideal. They seemed to be painted on top of the sky, not having that special quality of the real clouds, that thing when you feel you can grab them and you even imagine how soft they are.

 Moments later, the rain seemed to intensify. In some parts, tree bark began falling to the ground, revealing something very strange. The rain that was falling had changed somehow, not only being water but also something else. This did not yet affect the eagle, but she did seem uneasy, even as unnatural as she looked. More tree bark fell to the ground and also some flowers, which seemed to be eaten away by the water that carried them far away from the place where they had fallen. The floods were soon tainted in the colors of the flowers that came from all over the forest.

  Another color was also present in the water. Some red tint that was slowly carried away also permeated the water and the rivers down the valley. It was all brought down to a lake made up of still water. Many streams entered the lake and it was also surrounded by forest and large lumps of dead leaves that rotted fast, producing more color over the lake. There was a strange color in the water, towards the middle of the lake, something a bit lighter than the normal color of the water of a lake.

 More than that, something was moving in the middle of the lake. It looked like a fish but much larger than anything in existence in the world. The lake was far from any ocean or land populated by people, so it was very likely that creatures there would be very particular to that strange landscape, where clouds seemed to be painted on the sky and the rain was acidic and melted flowers into a mush of rainbow colors. The fish swimming in the middle of the pond was something not so abnormal after all.

 A thunder suddenly descended from the clouds and struck the fish in the middle of the lake. The light discharged illuminated the sides of the lake and made the fish more defined. After the electricity dissipated, the creature jumped out of the water, looking to have been activated in some way by the thunder. The creature started swimming around and around the lake, absorbing the remains of the flowers and the leaves that had accumulated on the edges of the lake. It ate like crazy, as if it had never eaten.

 The creatures splashed all around the lake. The eagle flew by the water and looked at the fish trashing and eating. It just moved it wings a couple of times and then disappeared somewhere on the other side of the forest, as if it had never been up there. Hours later, the fish finished eating and it submerged itself into the lake, again doing circles in the middle of the body of water. It had returned to that weird trance stage, which was apparently only one of two things it did in its strange life.

 That forest was certainly a very special place. There were signs all around that it hadn’t been created in a natural way, instead being constructed by something or someone. It was the creation of some mastermind with a plan that had never really been realized. The eagle, the clouds, the fish creature and the acidic rain could not be everything that strange place had to offer. Something else had yet to be revealed. Maybe a reason for the place’s existence or maybe the face of the creatures that had imitated the most natural place on Earth. Someone had planned something but had never finished it.

 Maybe, just maybe, they were still missing something to properly finish their project.

Storms

    Water felt good. Even the cold that had descended from the clouds was nice on the skin and bones. Everything seemed alien in a way, covered by the storm and a fog that was thick and somber. Sitting on a bench in the park didn’t feel like something normal, but so wasn’t the absence of people or of any kinds of sounds. It seemed as if the world had lost all of its inhabitants in a single moment and it was glorious. He sat there, not minding anything but the was happening right then and there. It was amazing.

 There were no birds, no dogs or cars turning the corner. There were no people talking on cellphones or others talking loudly with their coworkers. There were no babies or children or teenagers whose hormones made even more sounds than the storm. No one else was around. Only rainfall made noise and, occasionally, a thunder or two would break the peace, as if it was announcing its presence and power. All of that was beautiful and very special and something people would rarely stop to really perceive.

 Granted, storms like that one were not that common, even in the rainy season. But people should’ve taken advantage of them more often because, it almost seems that you can listen to deeper sounds when you have the chaos and calm of a storm. It’s almost as if you could listen to yourself, to what your deep feelings are really telling you. It’s such a peaceful state and place to be that it becomes almost as a temple. Of course, prayer is not mandatory but you could do that if you wanted to, if it was up to you.

 The man was drenched, from top to bottom. He wore a hat that was now almost black because of the water, a t-shirt, jeans and sneakers. Everything was flooded with water. Yet, he seemed to be thinking, he seemed to be really taking advantage of the moment. Maybe he didn’t get to meditate a lot at home or maybe it was just a way to breathe a little before the end of the storm came, which would eventually come. He seemed to feel every drop of rain on his body, every single water stream coming down his limbs.

 Two consecutive thunders and their lightings lit up the sky and made it look so different; that it was a shame more people weren’t outside enjoying nature. Sadly, people only learn to love when they get something in return and that includes nature. If she behaves in a way that its natural but that takes away something from mankind, then humans do not want anything to have with it and they even declare war against it. Humans never really learn to enjoy things as they are. Instead, they want to world to be what their image of it is in their brains, and that image is almost always highly inaccurate.

 The storm continued for several hours. Eventually, silence was broken by cars and people running to them and buses and trains and planes, in order to get home safe and hopefully fast. Then, at night, silence came again. The darkness made it all even more silent, more serious in a way. Now that most people were at home, relaxing in the world that they had build for themselves, they really didn’t care at all about what was happening outside their homes, not even caring if there were people like them outside, the less fortunate.

 In general terms, they really were unfortunate souls. They had difficult access to every single thing that a human being needed to survive and they didn’t have a home, which would cause several problems for any normal human being. However, they were much more in touch with nature than other people. They loved to have animals on their side and they learned from their surroundings about how to survive many things. Nature taught them everything they needed to know, if they listened and paid any attention.

 At those hours of the night, no one would do the same thing that the man did during the day. No one would sit on a park bench and just wonder about life, not even if the night was perfectly clear and warm. The weather came in second or even third after the dangers of the city. They could be deprived of any soul and dangerous because of those people that have evolved to feel they permanently need to take away from others. It’s a disease that many have inside their brains and it grows and cannot ever be eradicated.

 As they say: “once a thief, always a thief”. And it’s a true saying because no one really stops being something like that. Once you think you have the right to take someone else’s belongings, you will never stop perceiving the world like that. It’s not that some steal because they are poor, less fortunate or just hate society and everything in it. No, it’s because they have gotten used to it, they have started to like scaring people in parks at night, cornering them and threatening their life. They have become addicts to that feeling.

 It is power that they love and even during storms at night, they will come out and try to cure their obsession by doing the only thing they feel they know what to do. They can be caught by police and send to jail for a short time, but that rush will not come down. Once you’ve felt power, you just cannot let go, especially in a world where only a few fortunate souls really do have power, mostly in the form of money. If someone outside that circle gets to feel a little bit of that, they simply become remarkably obsesses and they continue fulfilling that rush until they can’t, for one reason or the other.

 Anyway, stormy nights belong to no one, just as stormy days. No one can claim them; no one really knows how to describe the feeling of it all, how special it really is to finally being able to talk to your real self and to connect with nature. It’s different for everyone; so one experience is not really similar to any other. They are just as us humans, similar in key aspects but vastly different in what really counts. And that’s a fact that nature imbued into us, making us realize how really complex life is.

 The same feeling can be experienced when snow begins to fall or when you experience the natural darkness of the wild. You can also fill it when you dive deep into the water or when you swim in the ocean. It’s just something that is more than all of us combined, something that we can only experience privately. If we do feel it, if we really achieve that point, we will simply find it very complicated to use appropriate words to describe what it’s all about. After all, it really is a personal experience, different for each one of us.

 We have been led to believe that, as humans, we are precious and very special. And a way, we are, because we exist out of pure luck. We just happened, like a miracle, and now we are here doubting every single thing that surrounds us or worst, no even stopping to look at our surroundings. We believe that our brains are a masterpiece but most of us rarely use them properly because we just don’t have to. The world has stopped trying and now we just have to do a small amount of things to be a successful human.

 Of course, that is only in rich countries. In the rest of the world it is even worse because we still think we are miracles but we do not see any advantages of that anywhere. We try and try and try and nothing works and that’s how people get frustrated and they do whatever comes first in their heads.  So, that special part of us is just useless, like having the world’s most expensive object but not being able to sell it because it has become something more than just a very expensive object, whatever it might be.

 What really makes us special is how we choose to live life and how we decide to learn about ourselves. Thinking and precisely using the tools we were giving at birth is precisely what makes us special, not just having those tools. Anyone can do anything but not all of us can do it the right way.

 So just go out into the storm, drench yourself in water and make yourself feel. All those other things are not us, all those objects and people. They do not matter when don’t even know where we are and who we are. In order to live properly, we should really learn to look inside and around ourselves.

Every day is a raining day

   Every day is a raining day. Or at least that’s what it seems like these days. A storm follows another storm, which follows one more after that. There are only a few hours each day for people to get from one place to the other without being drenched in water. The rest of the time is almost impossible to look beyond oneself. There’s this mist that accompanies the rain, a strange vapor that seems to set in whenever water comes down pouring and those are the things some people thrive in.

 Not most but some. Some like to live in the dark, in alleys and dimly lit corridors. They even fear the light and what it brings, the people it lets into their lives. They’d rater stay in the shade with the other creatures of the darkness, as it is more comfortable for them and for the dealings they do with others like them. We all know what happens in those places, in those corners of the world we never really see but that we can imagine, with the distorted help of media, such as movies and television shows.

 The truth is that the darkness is way darker and grittier than we think. It’s not just about ugly people doing ugly things. It’s about every single kind of person doing things that we cannot even imagine. It’s about their lives, taking a turn for the worse and having to head for those shadows in order to survive, probably doing things that we think we would never do. But we haven’t fallen to the darkness, not yet anyways. We don’t even fear that happening because we feel it will never happen to us.

 But it does, all the time and everywhere. There are people right now; doing things they have to do in order to survive the day, maybe even to get some money to have something to eat. It won’t be a nice meal, a complete set of vegetables and proteins. It will most likely be something not very sanitary but cheap enough to sustain a body and a soul for a little longer. It’s what they have and what they can afford. And most of the times, they don’t even care. They just need the fuel to keep going.

 Eating is not a priority in their lives. Some of them don’t even do it often and they have lost all taste for things that they may have loved in their past, their better past. Food is a luxury to think about and to have. They go seeking other stuff, harder stuff; in order to be able to stay up all day doing whatever it is they need to do. Some of them sell drugs, some others sell themselves. Some kill and some are escaping people that want them dead. It’s the lowest and grimiest circle of life, one that barely exists and its filled with the worst this world can produce, which happens to be more than one would think.

 Once they hear thunder in the distance, they run to their hiding spots. These creatures, these people if that’s how you want to call them, they don’t really have a home. They have places to stay and the most fortunate ones amongst the unfortunate have a room somewhere that they can call their own. But it never feels like a proper home because most of the things there are not really theirs, the place is not theirs and they can never stay there for long. It’s just a place to go if they need such a thing, and a storage room.

 Everything is different in the dark. Not only you have to be stronger than in most places, you also have to be a bit smarter than the rest or at least more intuitive than in the real world. People will want to deceive you and there’s not really someone to trust fully. There are no friends or family, they are just people that are ok in one moment and then enemies or strangers the next second. It changes that fast because it has to, because it is a world in a never-ending flux.

 They also feel, like us. That’s not really different. The thing is they have to mask those feelings and even make them harder to manifest. They will love someone if the proper situation arises, they will also hate them with ease. But feelings can be dangerous to have in such a place because they are a weakness others can exploit. So you have to be tough, you have to be a rock even if you do feel like any other human being. Because they’re also humans, just ones that have ran out of any luck.

 Luck is not only about being fortunate enough to have a loving family and the right set of opportunities in life. Luck is also that thing that always seems to help you in moments when nothing seems to be able to give you a proper hand. We are all lucky, up here. In one way or the other. But down there, there is no luck. You actively have to know how to survive; you have to think your every move. One misstep, and you are out. And when you are out in the darkness, the consequences are much more serious.

 The darkness feeds on those who inhabit it. It’s a symbiotic relationship that is very tense and can break in any moment. That’s why those who live in it have to be careful. They don’t have one second to stop and think about life and feelings and how everything around them happens or doesn’t happen. They don’t have that luxury. They have to keep moving, keep doing things in order for their head to stay above water level. Because if for only little moment they forget where they are or who they are, they will drowned in the deep darkness of the world.

 And there’s nothing or no one that can help after that. In this world you are on your own and that is even more of a reality down there. Things may hurt and be scary but the real trick is to adapt fast and use who you are to stay in the most advantageous position you can be in.

 It’s not always easy and many; actually most of those who live in the dark, die without anyone else in the world knowing what ever happened to them. And that’s sad but its also not surprising seeing the kind of species we have become, one that is more than carnivorous but does eat one piece of meat.

Case closed

INT. DAY – POLICE INTERROGATION ROOM

The rain hits the only window in the room with ferocity. Nothing can be seen outside because of a heavy haze.

The camera moves away from the window and settles on a corner, watching the center of the room. There’s a large table and two chairs, a pasty white guy is seating in one of them. No one sits in the other chair.

The man lays his head on the table, apparently crying but there are no tears on his face. The door to the outside opens. It’s a policeman. He’s very tall, black and carries a gun on his belt.

DETECTIVE MARKO

You sure were difficult to pick up, Vince.

 The detective sits on the empty chair. He grabs a pack of cigarettes from his chest pocket, pulls one out and offers it to Vince.

DETECTIVE MARKO

Wake up, man.

 Vince raises his head. His eyes are red. He looks pale and desperate. He grabs the cigarette. Marko pulls out a lighter from the cigarette pack and lights Vince’s smoke. He inhales once and clearly enjoys the taste of it.

DETECTIVE MARKO

Now, where’s the girl?

Her dad’s here, Vince.

Vince looks at the door, nervous. Marko sits back on his chair, crossing his arms and looking straight at Vince, who looks like a trapped mouse.

DETECTIVE MARKO

We know everything, Vince. We know what you did to them.

To her. We just need you to help us find her.

But Vince doesn’t seem to mind the presence of the detective. He suddenly stands up and walks towards the window. He stays there, looking at the rain, not saying a word.

Marko’s fingers start playing with the cigarette pack.

DETECTIVE MARKO

Did you know her dad is congressman Walters?

The one whose face is all over town, seeking reelection?

(For a second, he waits for an answer)

He’s calm right now. If he gets mad, you’re fried.

But Vince keeps looking out the window. The drops of water hit the glass hard but the man doesn’t seem startled or annoyed. He just looks at the rain in the most peaceful way.

Then, he starts mumbling.

DETECTIVE MARKO

What’s that?

Marko stands up from his chair and walks towards Vince, who’s still talking under his breath.

The men are separated then by a few meters but Marko does not understand what Vince is saying. He mumbles as if he was repeating things to himself, not to really talk with anyone.

DETECTIVE MARKO

Hey! Stop it! You’re dyin’, dumbass!

Don’t you wanna save your ass?

 Vince remains unresponsive. He keeps repeating, mumbling. His cigarette is consuming itself on his hand.

Detective Marko closes his fists, ready to be harder on Vince than he was authorized to. But he refrains. A muted sound enters the room from outside.

DETECTIVE MARKO

I can make them see you’re not well.

You don’t have to die, Vince.

Vince then turns around and looks at Marko straight in the eye. He smiles softly. He walks one step towards the detective. He then reaches out with one hand, caressing Marko on the cheek.

VINCE

But I do have to die. You know that.

 Marko looks scared. He cannot move away from Vince. He stares at the criminal, but does not seem to know what to do next.

VINCE

And she will have to die too.

You also know that.

 His hand caresses Marko further, feeling his three-day stubble. His smile grows, making his face look weirdly deformed. If he looked pale and lanky before, he now looks insane.

VINCE

Tell the congressman to make the arrangements.

Vince pulls back his hand. Marko seems to be able to move now. He turns around suddenly towards the door but it opens before he can reach it. A woman stands there, dripping water.

OFFICER GARCIA

Sorry to interrupt, sir.

DETECTIVE MARKO

(Looking back at Vince)

It’s ok. What is it?

OFFICER GARCIA

Sir, it’s the congressman.

Marko turns his attention to her, his eyes wide open.

OFFICER GARCIA

He said he was going for a coffee.

But some officers saw him running towards the street,

without his coat.

Vince chuckles. Marko looks at him again but his face goes back to Garcia in a second.

DETECTIVE MARKO

What happened?

OFFICER GARCIA

(Nervous)

We went after him. He seemed out of his mind.

He didn’t look before crossing and…

Marko understands. Vince starts laughing, first slowly but then faster and louder. The detective seems to be losing his patience.

OFFICER GARCIA

We found this on him.

(She pulls out a cellphone from her coat)

It’s…

Marko takes the cellphone without asking. He looks at it and sees something he would have wanted not to see.

On the screen, a live feed is still ongoing. The camera is apparently under water and, for a moment, you cannot see much.

Then, a head tilts forward and it becomes noticeable. It’s the face of a young woman. She’s clearly dead, having turned purple already.

Garcia takes the cellphone back, saying something about evidence. Marko’s head turns. He walks towards the chair and drops there. He grabs his head, it hurts. Vince’s laughter is loud.

VINCE

I had to do it Marko.

You knew. You always knew.

Marko looks at him, his eyes a bit watery. He looks at Vince laughing but doesn’t seem to have the same power and stability than before. He looks lost, confused even.

Two policemen enter the room and pull Vince out of it. Marko looks how the man is dragged out, how he’s still laughing. Finally, a tear runs down Marko’s face. The men leave and he’s alone with that tear.

The rain punches hard on the glass.