The cliffside opened up; the jagged teeth snared and shone beneath the ledge. The gums that connected the sharp, shining teeth to the rock formation in which she stood on; torn and sore as they fade from bright pinkish-red hues into the murky, desolate black of the rock. The transparently black hands reach out into the cavernous wasteland beneath the nearly gravity-defying ledge, which juts out just far enough to remain unstable and ready to collapse under the girl’s minuscule weight. Her weight remains at a constant, despite her nightly radical binges of anything even remotely considered grub. Though, I do suppose her bi-weekly fasts play a role in this maintenance; she finds it hard to consume anything that would even remotely be considered nourishment at times. That’s how it’s been ever since she could remember, though, so it’s nothing new to her and you needn’t feel any sort of distress for her fluctuating state.

A sort of melancholic relief washed over her being at the sight before her. The seemingly endless drop; she could fall for days and never even come close to the sandy red rocks of the desert canyon below. The despairing hands wedged between the gums of the cliffside teeth reach out as if searching for something, someone. Their transparent blindness calls out to her sense of despair within. “This is one of those places isn’t it?” she ponders the existence of this distorted destination at which she has arrived while remaining unmoved. The translucent hands reach up to the cliff, plopping and scratching desperately at the top of the miniature peninsula. They’re hungry for another victim, another depleted, melancholic soul to feed on. After all, she’s right. This is one of those many, many places, those distorted places that feel as though they’re from another realm entirely. A place where people come to fly. They stand on the edge of the cliffside, and the desperate clawing hands reach for them, they hold them; then, with all hesitation leeched from their body by those disgusting appendages, they extend their own and step forward to begin their journey. The distasteful hands reach for their falling form, and they help them fly. Moments after the echo sounds, another clawing hand peers over the ledge to scratch the topsoil of the sandy peninsula.

The silence confirms her suspicions in a hasty manner. Her eyes close in a lingering blink and an equally silent sigh releases the tension she didn’t know was being held in her shoulders. She takes a few steps forward, her feet just beyond the grip of the disgusting appendages stuck between the teeth of the squealing cliff. Her eyes lay steadfast on the writhing fingers before her, her attention only captured by the wild flailing of the others.

“Not today, my friends, not here,” a defeated kind of statement, yet still so hopeful in the end. As if on queue the writhing of the dark-colored feed ceases. They pick themselves up, led by the wrist, from the ground they lay limp on seconds ago and fall back unto the sneering teeth below. Their forms increasing in transparency as they approach until they find themselves completely unseen. With the clawing and plopping sound made by the feed gone, the canyon remains silent. The quiet is unnerving; not dissimilar to a war machine that lay dormant beneath the sands of some dystopian village in a movie somewhere.

This place is only one in an endless supply; places to fly, or anything someone with a deficit in happiness could lust for. She didn’t come to this place to fly, though. She enjoys these places, yet still finds disgust in their inhabitants. She came to this dingy location to escape. No, not in the way you’re thinking. She came to think freely; thinking without restriction, judgment, or prejudice. The thoughts that you normally push down and ignore; thoughts you wish didn’t exist. She came to embrace them, for she understands they are a vital part of her. She’ll let them bounce around in her head until they seep out through her skull into the barren environment, she stands in. Then, she will return to her mundane life she and many others have grown to hate; she’ll return to battle.