Depth of Mind - A Short Story by Storm Mackenzie

Penelope stood at the edge of the canyon, looking down into the depths of its gaping mouth. She didn’t want to go there anymore than she wanted to stay up here in the heat. There was nothing there of interest, just more dust and dirt. The sun was high overhead, beating down on her back and soaking her t-shirt in sweat. She stunk, she felt disgusting and she was tired to the bone. With a sigh, she began the trek down the mountain, wallowing in her pain.

Seraphine was less gloomy. She took her sister’s place at the edge of the canyon and looked down at the vast beauty of it all. The red and orange dirt was mixed with different colours and stained the walls in a pattern of endless wonder. She pulled out her binoculars and squinted through their lens into the midday light. The sun shone down at an angle, making sparkling coloured lines blur her vision for a second before she moved the binoculars around.

She could see all the small bits of life clutching to the edges of the canyon, like tiny pieces of fabric caught on a curl of barbed wire. She could make out a beautiful, blooming flower of bright red clinging to the only small ledge, a straggling piece of vine trailing over the edge and down into the depths of the canyon. The flower was faced up at the sun in full glory, not wilting despite the heat. She wished she was as brave as that flower, blooming and bold even in the most daring of situations.

“C’mon, Seraphine. Let’s get this over and done with so we can go home. My legs are aching.”

Penelope was a few meters ahead and had glanced back at her sister. She had no idea what her sister found so interesting. There was nothing but blank walls and the occasional weed here and there. Yet somehow her sister saw a million and one things, majestic and marvellous amazements that no one else could see.

She turned around again once her sister began to follow. The hot wind whipped the hair in her face, whistling loudly in her ear. She ducked her head and kept to the trail, scared of falling over the edge. She could imagine herself falling and falling forever, waiting and knowing that death was to come. The fall would probably be worse than hitting the bottom, knowing what was coming but having no way to stop it. She tore her eyes from the impossible height, swallowing quickly.

Seraphine looked over at her sister. She was far ahead. She could hear the wind whistling in her ears, a music unique to the canyon. There was a low humming noise, perfectly in harmony with the high pitched shrill that sang the melody. If she listened even closer she could here hundreds of other notes backing up, like a whole orchestra playing in time, as the wind ran through the thousands or tiny holes and cracks in the canyon.

She ran to catch up with her sister, just as a loud shriek sounded overhead. Her head snapped around in time to see an eagle soar by in all its glory. The sun shone through its wings and into her eyes, blinding her momentarily. Then it was swooping away, disappearing at such a speed that she subconsciously knew it was impossible. But it no longer mattered, because she was flying.

She felt the wind tear at her arms and legs as she fell from the ledge where it had crumbled beneath her. The sun was like a beacon showing her the way to safety. She knew she was dying, but to die like this would be amazing. She heard her sister’s scream, the pain in it as Penelope watched her sister fall further and further from reach. But she knew her sister would move on. She was a survivor.

She angled her body, spinning in a gentle circle. Then she dived. Faster and faster she went, the canyon walls a blur of colour. She knew that only a few seconds had past, not even that, but it felt like she was falling for eternity. At the last moment she laughed, a short burst of sound as she remembered all at once everything she had seen in her life, all the wonder and joy, as well as all the sadness. Only the happy moments mattered now, because she had gotten through all the bad times by remembering the good, knowing that there would be more to come.

She never closed her eyes, and as she lay at the bottom of the canyon in a broken pile, her eyes came to rest on the blooming red flower, with the eagle shrieking and soaring far above.

Penelope watched in horror as her sister fell. For a second she leaned forward, not thinking she might fall herself. She saw her sister spin in a circle, then with a gasp watched as she dived, her arms tucked in. She was like a bird, except that no matter how much joy she had in life, she would only ever fall downwards. When her sister landed in a pile in the shadows of the canyon Penelope had almost stepped off the edge after her. It was just then that the tour guide grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.

She would have whirled on him, for where had he been when her sister took that one false step off the edge? But she couldn’t, for her tongue was stuck in place, as were her limbs and even her mind. All she could do was watch her sister fall and fall again, over and over. It was an image she would never forget. She knew it would be the last image she saw as she lay on her own death bed, years from now in a crumbling old nursing home.

She never spoke of what happened with her sister, never said a word, never forgot it. She was put in trauma therapy for a while. They gave her a pencil and a piece of paper, and she discovered she could draw. She drew in detail her sister, in every scene possible.

She drew her surrounded by a garden in all its glory, a garden she would have once called a jungle of weeds. She drew her standing waist deep in the waves of the ocean, dolphins dancing in the waves behind her as she stood staring into the sunset. She drew her climbing a tree, the light splintering above her in a shattering of green light through the leaves.

Then she drew her falling, falling, falling, further and further into the dark depths of the endless canyon. She drew it in every detail, because for that one instant, she had seen the world as her sister did, in all its detailed glory. The only difference was that when she saw the beauty in the world she also saw how it would all end someday. Nothing mattered, everything moved on.