This is somewhat of a "freewrite novella". I classify it as such because I have wanted to do more spontaneous fictional writing but have never been one for writing things in concise words(not by choice, by ability). So, I decided an ongoing freewrite story would be a good option for me. I write this as I publish it- so although I have a plot in mind things are subject to change. I hope someone likes this idea! haha
A Rude Awakening
PART 1
It is difficult to know at what point the smog and haze becomes mist and fog. For hundreds of miles it stretches, one seemingly single, odd layer of substance that seems to hide all that is enveloped inside. On the southern side, it burns the eyes and the throat, exposing a seemingly natural phenomenon for one we have so cleverly crafted. On the northern, the same appearance offers protection from the harsh environment we have built.
For all these hundreds of miles, the air is thick and near impossible to navigate. To be above it, you would have no idea what is below. In fact, it almost seems to serve to a certain extent as a veil to shield the eyes of those above from what has become underneath. A veil that the people below have manifested, as to hide their mistakes from the idols they have created.
Surely they know if the higher power exists, it is not viewing from the perspective the believers have attributed to it.
Beneath the veil, if there indeed is a “beneath”, short of the interior of the earth, people live; but do not thrive. In the southern end of the strip of white/grey nothingness, a woman cries for the loss of her son. 48 hours she has not heard from him. A distraught lover bangs on the doors of her masters for answers, even of the worst kind; a futile attempt. They simply do not care for this lover; this mother.
In the northern end, a narrow road passes between two previously impenetrable mountains. The road itself is one of the greatest accomplishments of humankind(although books will tell you that about nearly everything homo sapiens have done; it just depends on which one wrote them). There is a small pull-off at the top of the road, just above the fogmist and maybe the only point visible from above for miles around. It is the type of road that is closed for 3 seasons of the year; and for the fourth so many ambitious drivers ignore the signs above vehicle restrictions and end up in a dangerous predicament; or worse. In fact, the road is so clogged with cars becoming stuck on it with no feasible way out that many would, and do, argue that it should be outright closed- for it is rare even for the proper motorist to successfully get from point A to point B; no matter what season.
From the top of this road there lies an untraveled path. It may have once been part of a larger trail system, it may be a bear or deer path, or it could simply be a mystery that very few will hold secret. Even though the origins of said path may never be publicly known, many of the more daring locals have explored this path, and even international “paranormal investigators”- although many of those appear more to be bored people with too much money; and no real knowledge or even interest in anything that could actually be considered remotely “paranormal”.
On this specific day, if one were to travel this path they would not be able to see much other than the path itself. The blanket was thicker than it had been in days prior- a welcoming presence in such a warm, humid area. It again seemed that the world was embarrassed and wanted to hide. To navigate one’s way through this monstrosity, a being would have to essentially be looking at their own feet to stay on path. At times, it’s difficult to determine whether there even is a path at all or if it simply the product of one’s imagination.
There are brief, ever-changing areas in which the trail conquers the density of the fog. Traveling along, one would barely be able to notice even the existence of such areas until they found themselves inside of them. If one were to travel about 3 and one quarter miles up the trail, on this particular day, and stand in one particular spot, and wait for one of these particular moments to pass, one might notice colors quite out of place in such a forested, mountainous area. Two bright red, small pieces of rubber existed amongst the stones. If the fog would allow for further investigation, one would find those pieces of rubber are on the heels of two sneakers. With more investigation, one would discover that those sneakers were attached to the feet of a youngish man, in all black, laying in a rather uncomfortable position amongst the rocks.
If one were to observe the man for long enough, they would inevitably eventually see him open his eyes. They would see the look of confusion on his face as he looked around, and the quickness with which he jumped to his feet to look around; despite his body clearly not feeling well. They would see him take a few steps and vomit; and then proceed to check his body as if he were making sure he still had all his parts. And they would see him start stumbling along the path; it seemed as though pure luck that he had chosen the right direction, as not a single living thing would be able to navigate in this fog.
If one were to continue to stalk the man, to observe him, they would see eventually see him make his way all the way to the road(with great difficulty, I might add) and start walking down the east side. As with the previous cardinal decision, it seemed to be pure speculation; however obvious it may seem to some that surely a road must go somewhere; but that is not always the case.
And if one were to REALLY watch this man, for hours and hours on end; navigating through the fog at a safe distance without being noticed; they would eventually witness him find a home. They would witness him go up to a door and knock; quietly and politely at first, but with increased desperation and force. And, just as the man would seem to be about ready to give up and move onwards, you would see the door open and elderly, yet strong woman appear and you would hear her say;
“Who the fuck are you?
And, if the stalker did exist, and they were still nearby, they would most likely be delighted with the man’s response;
"I don’t know"
