The Curious Dealing with Self-inflicted Consequences
Joycelyn Fitts
After gathering my things
and checking all my doors
with more than
an hour and a half to spare
I left.
Rolling down the road
on this lovely fall morning
the sunshine warms me.
Inhaling, the sun’s heat enters my lungs
Loosening my tense muscles.
My nerve-buzzing fades
into quiet.
I settle into the silence,
the car engine’s humming
lures me to daydream. Until
I pass it.
An abandoned power line post.
After three point turning
I stop,
facing an abandon post
behind a rolling hill
of a grass plain
rimmed with trees
near a creek.
My heart tumbles
in my temples.
My lungs hold
tight to the last
breath I inhale
Film grains hiss in my ears.
“No thank you.”
Back at home now
After closing the front door
I buckle, static grains
humming on my nerves
blood vessels throb
my mind wonders
over the rolling hill’s settling.
Eventually,
I fall to sleep
under my bed.
I don’t care.
If It comes,
It will have to find me.
It’s morning.
And again
the film grains seize my mind
shading my body
hollowing my chest.
My lungs refuse to perform their function
and my heart drums harder
than it ever has,
my body refuses to move.
The footage set to replay
in my head.
My nerves ablaze
in the daydream hours.
Famine and salivating
for resolution,
I stagger to the den
The third tape labeled NO
plays the screen.
Back at the rolling hill
the camera faces the creek
the cameraman doodles
wildly on a large
sheet of paper.
If I squint it resembles
a map.
The cameraman
swings his head
constantly
checking his surroundings.
as the frames reel,
he fidgets,
twitches
until he collapses
belly down, trembling
unable to move.
With my eyes wide
I fast forward frames
guessing
the minutes he stays like that.
until something censors
the right of the frames.
I pause, rewind, play.
The creek ripples
as a tall-dark something
steps into the footage.
Its vine like limbs
curling, waving
into and out of the footage.
I pause.
My breath
flees me again.
My heart rattles against
my ribcage.
I want to press the stop button
but I’m unable to move.
Interview with the Author
What was the inspiration for this piece?
My inspiration for these poems were psychological indie horror games. Indie game studios had a lot of interesting ideas about horror stories that were unique from the mainstream horror ideas. I too wanted to remix how horror stories can be told and I became particularly interested in how logic could be used to backfire someone dealing with a fearful situation.
What was your creative process?
I made guidelines that constituted how I wrote the story. The main one being that protagonist must make logical decisions, with the exception of her giving into temptation of curiosity. From this experience I learned that with writing a series of work, it is easier for me to have guidelines for how things should progress, rather than try to plan everything out before writing it. Historically, outlining everything that happens in the story, opens up the temptation for me to overthink things in my work, which often paralyzes my progress.
Is there anything else you would like to add?
I have some advice about the creative process. When it comes to writing or making art, lean into the ideas that fascinate you, even those ideas that inspire you to make fanfiction or fan art of them. Research the core reasons for why you like them and explore those reasons further. Don’t be afraid to let them leak into what you like to create. For what you collect is a part of what you make after all.