The Path Through The Wheat Fields

“Have we ever thought that being lost is our destination?”

― Craig D. Lounsbrough

~xXxXx~

The Path Through The Wheat Fields

A straight lonely road cuts through the wheat fields, and the blooming crops grow to infinity on either side of her.

She stands on her toes, first peering towards the left and then the right. Yes, the fields really are ever-expanding, giving an illusion that they encompass the whole world, sparing only this thin dirt road that itself goes straight into the horizon.

For a brief second, an all-consuming fear takes hold of her heart. Is the entire world just a wheat field bisected by a single road, on which she is destined to toil until her legs give up, until her breath leaves her?

She gathers her courage and pushes down the stupid fear. She breathes in the fresh cool air, letting it flow through her untied straw blonde hair, letting it wash over her face. She looks ahead, at the red dusk sky which awaits her at the end of the road. It is only a matter of minutes before the last visage of the sun sinks away, taking away this version of the beautiful sky with it.

She presses on her skirt with the flat of her palms as a gust of cold wind blows through her, causing goosebumps to rise on her deathly pale skin. She wishes she was wearing something more substantial than this white knee-length diaphanous dress.

The night is approaching and the temperature is dropping quickly.

She hugs herself and keeps walking on the path.

Honestly, she isn't sure how long she has been trodding. Was it minutes? Days? Months? She cannot know. She remembers nothing of how she came here.

All she understands is that she has to keep on walking, no matter if it is day or night, or if it is raining or snowing.

Fortunately, the sky is clear with not a single cloud to mar its impressive vastness. So, at least there won't be any rain or snow to become unnecessary hurdles to this already tedious task.

The dirt road beneath her is still warm, although it will chill in a few hours after the cold seeps into it. How she wishes she had some shoes to protect her heels.

Shaking off the thoughts of those pleasant privileges, she walks on and on.

The sun has set and the round moon can finally grab her attention as the overpowering star is there no more to overshadow it.

She smiles grimly, suddenly struck with an errant thought of how Astoria is the moon and she the sun.

As she plods on, she thinks about how the moon is more beautiful and easier to look at than the sun. It is bright but not too bright. It is cool and calm against the sun's burning hot and volatile face.

She wishes people would stop saying that the moon is nothing without the sun.

It makes her want to scream until her throat bleeds.

…

Two streams of tears run down her cheeks.

She doesn’t even know what these tears are for.

Who is Astoria anyway?

The sorrow goes away as soon as it comes, leaving her a little disoriented, and yet she walks relentlessly as urged by her instincts.

…xXxX…

There is something on the road a little ahead. She quickens her pace and halts before it.

A few steps in front of her, in the middle of the road, lies an inverted glass bowl. A giant glass bowl that can easily fit a person inside it. And indeed there is a man trapped in it, who is frantically beating his palms against the glass barrier.

She reluctantly steps closer and looks through the transparent barrier.

The man is slamming his palms insistently on the glass, his green eyes burning with all-consuming hatred, and his face taut with rage.

She steps back with a gasp, scared when the barrier loudly rattles and the bowl skids a little towards her.

Abruptly, the man stops his struggles and sinks down to his knees on a small flat mattress that’s too tiny for him. He draws his knees in and hides his face in his hands.

She can go around the bowl and be well on her way. That is what she’s supposed to do.

To walk. To continue, no matter how hard it is to keep on going.

But she opts to kneel near the inverted bowl, directly opposite the man. She knocks on the barrier as if it’s a door. The man doesn’t even twitch.

She knocks again, loudly this time.

Still no response.

Before she can do a repeat, he looks up from his knees on his own accord.

Her heart clenches painfully at the sight of tears dripping down from the corner of his eyes. All the hatred has vanished from those kind green eyes. And in its place, despair, and hopelessness have taken root.

He looks so lost.

He looks so broken.

He looks dead.

She keeps staring at him, her palm pressing into her chest, trying to numb the pain that has assaulted her so abruptly. But the pain keeps on growing, creeping around her heart, squeezing it and clawing at it, eating her up from within.

On the other side, the man's eyes seem to lose the pain. They seem to lose their life, becoming glassy, and less and less vibrant.

A black scar begins forming around his neck. Like a bruise, like a noose, like a rope mark. First a light grey, then turning darker and darker.

Somehow she knows, she knows that all will be lost if this black scar on his neck turns any darker. Still clutching her heart with one hand, she gets up on her unsteady feet, leaning against the inverted glass bowl.

“Stop! Don't cry!” She yells, beating her open palm against the smooth glassy surface.

But he isn't even looking at her. No, it’s as if he is staring through her, as if he is gazing at the night sky, with a strange hopeless smile possessing his lips.

It is a beautiful smile.

It is a sad smile.

“Stop it! Don't give up! Don't bloody give up! You have to keep moving forward!” She screams, her eyes burning with unshed tears as she punches her fist relentlessly on the transparent wall, making her knuckles bleed.

“Harry!” She whispers hoarsely, a name forming on her lips without even any conscious effort.

At the sound of his name, the man flinches as if struck and finally looks at her. Thankfully, the black bruising scar around his neck disappears as if it hasn't been even there in the first place

Like an eggshell, the barrier breaks with a crack sound. But instead of disintegrating entirely, only a small part on the side of the inverted glass bowl does. It is just large enough for her to enter.

The man regards her quizzically from the perch of his knees.

A part of her tells her to leave him be and resume her journey. It isn't her problem. He isn't her responsibility.

But ignoring the rational voice, she crawls inside and sits before him on the degraded mattress, mimicking his position, drawing in her knees, and placing her arms over them before perching her chin over.

It is a tight fit, her knees are flushed against his and her face is only a couple of inches away from him. She blushes at their close proximity and clears her throat, staring at his pretty green eyes which are brimming with confusion.

“Hello.” She smiles awkwardly, not really used to smiling. And at that moment, a pressure descends on her, making something inside of her vibrate with despair. Shadow lurches from the ground and enwraps her within, seeping in through her nose and from her every pore, filling her soul with darkness.

She screams as a profound sense of desolation blankets her, it is a familiar feeling, like she is the only being alive on earth, but somehow more potent and overpowering.

Soft warm hands cups her face, and momentarily brings her out of her misery. Blinking her eyes open she is met with compassionate emerald eyes. “You okay?”

In response, she just screams louder. “Get me out of here!”

She turns her head to look at the hole in the barrier. Her eyes widen, and a whimper escapes her.

The hole is resealed and she’s trapped inside with him. She starts crying as a white noise begins echoing inside her head. A queer sense of unease pervades her every cell. She closes her eyes and bites her tongue.

She wants to die.

She wants peace over this overwhelming loneliness.

Before her thoughts can drag her deeper into the pit, a loud smashing sound reverberates throughout the world like a thunder of rain in an eternal lifeless desert.

She blinks her eyes open and what she sees at that moment lifts her from the pit and sets her into heaven.

Harry is standing in front of her, the edges of his body glowing silver from the beautiful moonlight that falls on his back, outlining him, almost making him seem divine. He proffers his hand and gives her an uncertain smile, the glass barrier around them slowly disintegrating into small motes of light.

She gasps at the glass embedded in the back of his palm. Jumping to her feet, she takes it in her hands and gently removes the piece, wincing together with him as blood flows out from the cut.

“Did you just punch the glass into oblivion?” She asks unbelievingly, tearing a segment from her skirt and bandaging his injured hand with it.

Harry smiles sheepishly, letting her help him. “Uhm, yes. You wanted to get out of there. I'm Harry. Who're you?”

Done with bandaging his arm, she stands straight regally and offers her arm for him to kiss. “I am… Daphne? I think so.” Her confident voice falters into a whisper.

Who is she?

“Daphne.” He smiles brightly, grabbing her hand and shaking it enthusiastically.

She bites back an amused smile and decides not to tell him that he is a moron, that he is meant to kiss the back of her hand.

“So, what were you doing inside an inverted bowl?” She questions him curiously.

His face blanks at that, scrunching up in concentration as he narrows his eyes in frustration. “I… don't… know.”

She gives him a weird look. How can one get trapped inside an inverted bowl without knowing? Noticing that the lack of an answer is causing him great distress, she squeezes his uninjured hand which is still in hers. “Don't worry about it. The important question is what are you going to do. So, what are you going to do?”

He shakes his head morosely. “I don't know.”

She is really just done with it, and decides on a course, not wanting to waste time anymore.

“Fine then! Just follow me.” Daphne nods assuredly, resuming her walk and dragging him behind her.

He is confused for a few seconds before matching her pace and walking by her side with his hand in hers.

“Where are you going?” He queries.

“I don't know.” She chirps.

“Then where are we going?”

“I don't know.” She repeats with a roll of her eyes.

He gives her a weird look but doesn't ask any more questions for the moment, opting to just hold her hand and walk by her side.

And with that, Daphne gets a companion and this tedious walk isn't tedious anymore.

“Where will this road lead to?” Harry can’t help but ask after ten minutes of comfortable silence.

“Hmm, dunno.” She shrugs, squeezing his hand with a small smile as he makes a cute frustrated face.

“Does this road even have any meaning?” He grumbles.

“It should. What stupid fool would have made this road just to prank us? Theoretically, this path should take us somewhere.” She answers with a bright smile, a strange happiness having gotten hold of her ever since freeing Harry from the glass bowl.

“Where?”

“Dunno.”

“What if the world is just a wheat field bisected by this road with no visible beginning or end? What then? When would it be the right time to stop and renounce this fruitless walk and accept the hopelessness of our situation? We don't know where we are! We don't know how we are here! We don't even know why we are here! Doesn't that scare you?”

Daphne frowns and nods. “It does. But what else can you do? Stand still and wait for a miracle? That's pathetic. Instead, you should just walk. And walk. And walk. And keep on walking until you reach somewhere. That's what I think.”

Harry sighs. “But—”

“No buts. Just walk with me until the end. If the world is really just a stupid meaningless wheat field bisected by a single dirt road, then I'd at least like to walk with someone by my side and enjoy the journey while my legs still work. It's way better than trudging alone or simply giving up and waiting for the end.” She says exasperatedly, tugging him along so they could continue on.

‘And maybe I've already reached my destination.’ She thinks suddenly but doesn't voice it, sneaking a glance at his face. ‘Now, how long will it take for you to realise that?’

~The End~