Saturday, 22 July 2017

Drumbeat

Remember my story Taurus? It never really stopped talking to me. So here is a follow-up on that story, also inspired by two pictures I found on the internet.

Sorry, couldn't find the artists name for this one.

The drumbeat keeps going on, there is no way to shut it out. I know it’s not really there, it is just the beating of my heart. I want it to stop. I’m hiding, yes me, hiding. The big hideous monster of the labyrinth is hiding. I don’t want to see their faces anymore, the young people who remind me of better days, days when the sun was shining and I was running and playing in the fields. I guess the sun is still out there, I haven’t seen it for years. There is some light coming from above here, in the higher tunnels, that’s one of the reasons I like to sit here, hide here, at least a little bit of light, shining on my pale skin. I look at the shadows of my hands, falling on my feet. I look so human, every part of my body, as far as I can see, is human and yet they all call me a monster. Is it my unnatural pale skin that frightens them? I tend to forget what I really look like, I haven’t seen my reflection for such a long time. Sometimes I see it in their eyes, wide spread with terror.

And what do I see on those occasions? Two dark brown eyes with big lashes, curly hair on the top of my head, big wide ears, a long nose. Maybe not the prettiest face. It is not that what scares them, it's not even my nostrils and my horns next to my ears. My bulls head is gentle enough. It is the abnormality of my appearance, it is what I am, an abomination of nature, half human, half bull. And the tales, of course, the tales. According to the tales, I am a cruel man-eating monster. Mothers tell their children, be good or the king will send you to the labyrinth to be eaten by the monster. By me, who has been a vegetarian all my life! Although my stomach is human and can process meat, my teeth are not made for it! I like to eat my vegetables raw, chew on them for minutes.

The beat grows louder, I am afraid. The beat becomes faster. It is not my own heartbeat anymore. I really want it to stop. I don’t want to be confronted with the youngster anymore, not with my memories. And not with my hunger! There is some water dripping from the walls, I lick it up, it saves me from dehydration. But the hunger, nothing to eat! Nothing grows in these dark tunnels. The rumbling of my stomach mingles with the beating of the drums, both getting louder. They are getting closer, why did they bring drums? Hoping to scare me off? They must have seen the bones, the remains of the others. I don’t want to eat any of them anymore, it disgusts me, chewing on their flesh for minutes, making it even harder to swallow. But it is the only food I get, the only way of surviving.

I stare at my hands and feet, so much like theirs. No, I cannot do it another time, eat the same hands, the same feet. I am human! I am not a monster, I have never been a monster, they made me that! I’ll just stay here, hiding. Hoping they won’t find me. They’ll be damned anyway, no one finds their way out of the labyrinth. But it won’t be me this time, I’m done with it. Starvation is just another way of suicide, the only way of suicide in this godforsaken labyrinth. The drum is fading, it is just my heartbeat again, slowly dying. 


Picture: At the end of the Labyrinth by Ivan Kap

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