The Suffocating Rainforest was written by Amelia as a short story for our school anthology ‘A Thread Running Through’ inspired by a workshop with our wonderful ‘Author in Residence’ Helen Moss.
Chichen Itza, 2016
A cacophony of chainsaws broke through the rainforest. Startled, a group of macaws flew up blotting out the sun. An unearthly silence stalked into the forest. The sickening thuds of falling trees echoed around.
Tears ran hot and sticky down my face. I ran, my feet barely touching the leafy floor. Suffocated by the metallic, harsh sounds that emitted from every corner of the rainforest. My rainforest. A waterfall of past memories cascaded through my mind.
1570…
The warriors with pale faces poured out of the trees that day, swarming like locusts around our beautiful home. Shining weapons sliced in a frenzy. I watched with horror as my family and friends fell slaughtered, fear frozen on their faces. The warriors seem to delight in the savagery they bought. On that day, our sacred white temple ran with blood. The cool rainforest offered refuge to me, protecting me with its dark green leaves. Many hours later, after I had sobbed relentlessly, the elders of the tribe found me. Their faces lined with years, filled me with hope. I closed my eyes and let the darkness comfort me.
The stuffy smell invaded my nose, forcing me to wake from the haven of sleep. Choking racked my body as smoke filled my mouth. Elders sat hunched around the fire. The light danced on their faces illuminating their distraught expressions. They stood crowding me. In spite of their diminutive, frail and hunched bodies, I felt threatened. One of them reached out and stroked my face with a hand like a wrinkled prune. He spoke in a wavering voice that dripped with wisdom. It commanded respect.
“Anjaniame, you whose name means life, have been chosen by our gods to live a life of honour,” his eyes boring into mine. “Our tribe is almost destroyed by men with pale faces with sorcery in their blood. They have taken the forest. We cannot forsake our vow to protect the rainforest and its people. For years, we have toiled to find the potion of life. The one that grants immortality!”
The rest of the elders whispered feverously, their eyes gleaming madly. In that moment I saw all the demons of mankind dance around the fireplace: greed, jealously, hatred and temptation. I shivered, my body convulsing with an unknown force.
“This potion was created too late to save many. We are too old,” the elder proclaimed with a hint of wistfulness. Again, I witnessed that flickering reluctance to give up the power of this mysterious elixir. “However in you, life runs strong in your blood. You have fire in your soul.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Anjaniame you will drink this potion of eternal life. It will send you to a land of sleep from which you will be called from to protect the rainforest.”
A silent scream emitted from my mouth. Shivers stalked along my spine. The idea of being locked in sleep was terrifying. Trapped in a wasteland. Yes, it was an honour but what if I didn’t wake? What if I lay comatose, a breathing corpse.
The elders surrounded me, arms forming a prison wall. Their wizened arms seemed filled with strength as they clamped me to the ground.
“It is a great honour to be chosen. Your family would be so proud. All that is now left to do is for you to grant the gods a sacrifice that will gain their favour.”
The elders’ foreheads were drenched in perspiration. From the depths of the cave, a rope was brought forward. In the light of fire, the thorns attached to it gleamed wickedly. With my mouth wrenched open, I gagged as the rope was shoved in. My hand trembled as I drew the rope across my tongue. It felt like my tongue was on fire. Sharp pricks of pain attacked my body. I leant against the wall for support. At the bottom of my feet lay a white bowl of bone. Blood now filled it. The deep red stood out strongly against the pale white of my bowl.
Dense fog was forming in the cave. The elders gathered round the fire, their chanting voices creating a weird orchestra. Their bodies swayed from side to side as if controlled by an unseen force. Deep animal-like moans filled the cavern. Encircling me like predators, eyes glazed as if they were seeing something faraway. One of the elder’s hands was closed tightly round something. Slowly they unfurled like the petals of a flower opening to catch the sun. Nestled in his lined palm was a stone vial.
Merging, the elders’ voices formed a harsh and mechanical sound, “Drink!”
My hands moved of their own accord; I was a puppet who strings were being mercilessly pulled. I raised the vial to my cold lips and drank. The loathsome liquid burned in my mouth like molten rock. I swallowed. It seemed to suffocate me from the inside, fighting every breath that I laboured to breath. The rainforest flashed through my eyes, so vivid I felt like I was there. I fought against an invisible foe in an attempt to keep my eyes open, but my eyelids fell like shutters. Darkness crept in. Screaming cries of macaws echoed in my head. Then nothing!
The next 446 years passed in a land of grey. My sleep was not one of content, rather a restless one. Demons tortured me whilst I lay in my torpor and I saw my family and tribe slaughtered often. No vivid colours to delight in, nor harmonious sounds to listen too. My ears and eyes grew hungry and often wandered in search of a feast.
One day I woke to find the sun’s inviting rays warming my pale cheek. Head spinning as I faced the kaleidoscope of colours before me. Happiness invaded by body.
Chichen Itza, 2016
Then the trees started screaming as metal monsters invaded. Yellow beasts stormed through the forest. Their metal hearts were lusting after destruction. Hands sweaty, I faced them. Whispers whipped through the humid air.
“Do not betray the sacred trust,” said one caressing my ear.
“The Gods have willed it,” a silky voice uttered.
“The tribe wills it,” a multitude of voices proclaimed.
Slowly I sunk to the ground. Clasping my hands to my ears willing them to block out the voices that had shaped me, loved me and yet controlled me for the whole of my life. Part of me wanted to run. To forsake the forest that had suffocated me and turned me into a breathing corpse. Greed had stolen my childhood. The pale faced warriors would not have pillaged, if it had not been for our hoarding. We had valued gold too much. I never saw the danger of gold, how it entices the foolish and removes their soul until the knell of death sounded.
Standing, my legs wobbled, as if they were unwilling to serve me. Cursing them, I walked out of the forest. Forsaking the elders would allow me to keep my newfound freedom.
A sharp pain rippled through my foot. Submerged between lush green leaves lay a grey stone. Crudely cut into the stone were the words; A caballo dado, no se le ve el colmillo (don’t complain about something given as a gift). A laugh escaped my mouth. It burst into the forest startling birds. Brightly it sung its message of joy combating the metallic chainsaws.
The yellow monsters continued their onslaught. I stood before them, raising my dark hands to the blue gentle skies. I felt power rise up through my body. Fanning the flames that licked my heart. Trees extended their branches, like tentacles, snaring the pale faced men with chainsaws. Darkness rolled across the sky vanquishing the blue. Rain lashed the yellow machines. A booming noise announced the arrival of thunder.
Hysterical screams escaped the petrified men as they stared up at the rainforest that had come to life. Eyes widened, as to my left, translucent figures stood beside me. Their faces twisted in anger and their eyes flamed as they surveyed the men before then. A gust of wind blew some leaves through the forest. Hands that gripped chainsaws turned pale, as the leaves morphed into a monstrous apparition. Footsteps pounded as the men fled, weapons discarded.
Turning my head, I saw the shadowy figures bow then vanish. I looked proudly at my hands, amazed that I could command such power. A rustle of leaves startled me. Vines rushed towards me, gently stroking my hair. An urge to sleep overwhelmed me. My heart swelled with love. It stole my breath away. Eyelids falling, I turned to my rainforest. Sleep claimed and as I vanished amongst the tall trees. I, the protector of the forest, slept with a smile.