THE VISION IS A PLACE | ✓ {complete}

Chapter 8 : Eagle

    I'm inside an old greenhouse made from a plastic car shelter, but nothing grows here anymore. It's hidden at the back of the compound, behind the grandness of the golden dome temple. In front of me is a grey tank the size of a small car, but twice as tall. Its walls are thick, with no way to see in or out. On top is a door, like a submarine hatch, with rust formed around the hinges. The space smells of the decaying plants that are scattered around in cracked, terra cotta pots, their leaves wilted and frost bitten. Unlit candles line the floor against the milky, polyethylene walls like an abandoned shrine—like this place was once something sacred.

I undress with shaky hands while he watches, until I'm naked and shivering, battling with myself.

It's snowing outside. It's coming in through the tear in the roof. The tiny flakes glimmer in the moonlight before descending to join me in the dark. No one told me it would snow in the desert.

Everything around me is dusty and forgotten; worn from wind and time, but the way the light filters in through the plastic makes the space feel cold and clinical; alien, even. I reach out my hand to touch one of the snowflakes, just to see if it's real. It melts as soon as it touches my skin, if not a little sooner.

I blink my eyes to hold back the tears.

"Focus, Casten," says Eagle. "Do you still want to do this?" He steps directly in front of me. He's dressed in his usual white turtleneck with his thin white hair brushed back to reveal his receding hairline.

"How long do I have to be in there again?" I ask.

"That depends on you. You're in control. This is your path. Are you ready to meet your shadows?"

I nod.

"Good girl," he says with a nod of confidence, but there's a hesitancy in his eyes that I don't understand. Up until this point, he's been nothing but certain.

"And you'll come back?" I ask timidly, before he steps away.

"Of course I will."

"How will you know? How will you know when?"

His eyes narrow. He doesn't look happy with me. I shouldn't be doubting him. "I'll just know. I'll feel it," he tells me, with a care in his voice that feels like love. "They'll tell me." He glances above my head and I know he's referring to something like angels.

"Okay." I look in his eyes and he moves aside.

I take hold of the ladder. The sting of the frosty metal takes a moment to get used to. I step up on the first rung and curl my toes under to lesson the sharp prick of the grip on my bare soles. As I climb, my body feels weak from fasting, my shallow breaths forming little white clouds in front of me.

Eagle watches in silence.

I swing the heavy door back and steam rushes out, fogging up the plastic room. There's another ladder inside that I use to lower myself in with. I hardly notice when I reach the water because it's the same temperature as my body. I lean back and it holds me, like I'm floating in space. The hatch I entered through, is now just a small circle of light, far away at the top of the tank.

I hear him climb up after me.

His arm reaches across the opening to shut me in from the outside, and as sudden as one sharply drawn breath, all the light gets sucked away.

Just like that.

The last thing I hear is the thunderous echo of it slamming shut, followed by a click. After that: nothing.

It's a kind of silence I never knew existed. It's deafening. There is nothing to distract from the near violent self-awareness that comes over me.