The Flame Child
I had a weird dream last night where I was testing markers in a craft shop because I needed an orange to complete the colour palette for fire. (Which this is actually the case in waking life at the moment.) One of the oranges seemed to be multi-layered when put to paper. I was imagining what I could draw with it when the colour began to pulse, filling my vision. Though at first I thought I was imagining that too. Then it became an actual fire girl with hair of flames staring down at me from the ceiling. At this point I quit searching around my daydreams.
Whilst I had a tendency to get lost in my mind I knew I could only envision so much- and my fantasies didn’t tend to include flaming children who floated in front of me clear as day.
Whilst I had a tendency to get lost in my mind I knew I could only envision so much- and my fantasies didn’t tend to include flaming children who floated in front of me clear as day.
I don’t remember what she said- her demeanour was something between evil and mischievous- Nearby a cartoonishly drawn boy dressed in a blue hoodie and green trousers popped up from one of the shelves. (I think in the dream I’d tested some greens and blues on him)
Smiling, he began explaining to me that I’d have to be quick in getting my materials but not to worry. If I just made it to the end of the aisle I’d be fine. He seemed really relaxed and cheerful like he’d seen the flame-child create mischief before and it was par for the course. He wished me luck and ducked back into his paper. The flame-child chuckled.
“I merely advise you not to be here when I get back.” She dove into the drawing of the blue and green boy. Starting the clock, and my time limit before she returned a second time. (A return I’d just been encouraged not to attempt bearing witness to.) I noted in the back of my mind that when the flame-child dove into the drawing of the boy it morphed into a black and white sketch of a clothed skeleton with a dappled skull. I wondered again of both the flame-child’s morality and if the boy had succumbed to something sinister. But his easy demeanour just moments before confused me.
Smiling, he began explaining to me that I’d have to be quick in getting my materials but not to worry. If I just made it to the end of the aisle I’d be fine. He seemed really relaxed and cheerful like he’d seen the flame-child create mischief before and it was par for the course. He wished me luck and ducked back into his paper. The flame-child chuckled.
“I merely advise you not to be here when I get back.” She dove into the drawing of the blue and green boy. Starting the clock, and my time limit before she returned a second time. (A return I’d just been encouraged not to attempt bearing witness to.) I noted in the back of my mind that when the flame-child dove into the drawing of the boy it morphed into a black and white sketch of a clothed skeleton with a dappled skull. I wondered again of both the flame-child’s morality and if the boy had succumbed to something sinister. But his easy demeanour just moments before confused me.
I didn’t have time to think on it any more as a line of markers shot up like soldiers along the side of the aisle. Each boasted a sporadic golden fire like sparklers. “Fireworks.” I whispered.
I ran.
I ran.
I grabbed some of the brush pens I’d been experimenting with in the haze. More “Marklers” popped up and lit themselves, the crackly noise of a fast-burning fuse grew louder. I shouted for someone who worked in the shop to get down here, but just as soon realised they were oblivious. The aisle seemed to stretch as I sprinted. I knew somehow that I had to make it to the end of it. My legs burned, my heart felt like it was cascading towards an explosion of its own. Seconds left. Gritting my teeth I ran faster than I’d ever run in my life.
5... 4... 3... 2...
I rounded a corner as I burst out of the lane! Without looking back I kept sprinting till I skidded to a stop at the front desk. Several employees stood there. Cheery and nonchalant.
“You... have to...” I gasped, trying to catch my breath.
*BOOM*
Actually *BOOM* doesn’t cover it. Magnify that font size times a hundred and you’ll have a beginners estimate as to what the Marklers sounded like as they exploded in unison.
Actually *BOOM* doesn’t cover it. Magnify that font size times a hundred and you’ll have a beginners estimate as to what the Marklers sounded like as they exploded in unison.
Several aisles down the aisle I’d just been in flew to pieces, leaving a burst of colours in its wake.
The employees looked merely confused. “Fireworks.” One said, sounding as if he were commenting on the weather. The normalcy continued to throw me off.
I still couldn’t decide if what was happening was standard or sinister.
I looked at the brush pens in my hand and thought of the colour orange.
I woke up.
©️~Belle Emilie Gold
6th August 2019
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