She breathed outward, trying to expel the water that she was choking on, and continued to kick and paddle her way to the hatch. Morphia made it, then grasped the bolt that held the hatch in place, yanked on it with both hands, and slid it open. Pulling down on the hatch she thrust herself through the surface of the water, gasping for air, but she threw up almost immediately. Her lungs ached, as her heart hammered in her chest, and she realized that she had almost died. But Morphia remembered every detail of her vision, and as soon as she changed her clothes and made herself presentable once more, she shared it with her parents.
She stood before them in the sitting room and began: “I once had a friend who had a fish-bowl for a brain.”
Her parents shared an uneasy glance, but listened to her story until she was done. They thought little of it, but that didn’t matter to her. At least they had listened. Also, they hadn’t given her a hard time about filling her room to the ceiling with water. They knew she was eccentric at times, and as long as the rest of the house didn’t get flooded, they were willing to put up with it, and with her-- for a while anyway. In the meantime, she could sleep in one of the spare bedrooms.
Morphia spent the rest of her day wandering the streets, telling anyone that would listen of the things she had seen unfold.
Some were entertained. “Hmph… Funny.”
Some shrugged and laughed it off. “Hmph… Funny.”
Meanwhile, others, like her parents, only looked at her strangely, and were happy to be away from her.
“Yeah… real funny. Friggin Weirdo.”
But she didn’t care what the reaction of her audience was, only that now, for the first time ever, she felt she had a story worth sharing.
She occupied the following days in a similar fashion, roaming the streets, sometimes stopping in parks, standing on a bench, revealing all that she had seen. After a while though, Morphia couldn’t find anyone else to tell-- at least not anyone that would listen to her-- but no more visions had come to her.
Morphia sank into despair. She had other ideas for stories, but in her mind, all of them weren’t worth the paper they were written on. They were never good enough for her. Most of them were just odd fragments, that she didn’t do anything more with. They couldn’t hold her attention long enough to continue and complete anything.
Spiraling deeper and deeper, Morphia returned to her bedroom, and once again, she attempted to drown herself. As she took her last breaths, glad to have her life finally over with, another vision occurred. This time it was about a young girl who had no arms or legs, and who lived in a small, bronze sphere, and who sought to have a new body built for her. It was a much longer vision than her first-- so much so that Morphia nearly died before it was done and she made it through the hatch. Her lungs full of water, she’d fallen unconscious, but luckily, her mother had been in the attic searching through some files, and she made it to her in time.
Revived, Morphia changed her clothes and headed out to the streets once more, and didn’t bother to tell her parents what she had seen, which began with:
“Mr. Calm perched on Emily’s arm, as he did each afternoon, and chirped what he had seen.”
They were too busy to listen anyway. After Morphia left, they debated if they should have her institutionalized, whether they could afford it or not. Or perhaps, depending on their insurance coverage, maybe if she tried a third time, one of them wouldn’t be around to save her.
In any case, Morphia had learned her lesson, and while she told her new vision to a somewhat larger and more receptive audience over the coming days, she knew she’d have to return to her bedroom in order for her to have another vision.
And so, this cycle continued, but after another too close call, Morphia decided to ask her mother for help. They stood in the attic by the edge of the open hatch, the dark water glowing faintly.
“Let me get this straight: you need to drown in order to have one of these visions of yours, but you’re not planning on killing yourself anymore?”
“Yes, mother.” Morphia handed her mother a flashlight to help her a little more.
“And is there any money, any hope of some kind of career in having these visions, and wandering around like you have been?”
“I hadn’t really considered that, but yes, I imagine there is, if a person wanted to go in that direction.”
“OK, that I can understand at least.”
“Could we discuss all this later? I need to focus now. You know, mother: me. Drowning. I might die and all that.”
“Sorry. Just thinking of our-- your future.” Her mother agreed to stand by, mostly because she discovered their insurance package didn’t include suicides, and she and her husband still had hopes that Morphia would go to college and become a doctor or something, and that she would take care of them as they grew old.
Regardless, Morphia wasn’t paying attention at that point, and she sat at the edge of the hatch, then slid into the water. Once again, she wore her black satin dress, for luck. Her mother clicked the flashlight, and kept it trained on Morphia, which wasn’t all that easy. So much for her lucky dress.
Morphia sat there for a while, and once again she nearly drowned, but no vision came. Her mother panicked after a minute or so, having lost sight of her and she dove down to save her, not wanting to lose their early retirement meal ticket. Morphia was a quick learner, however, and realized that she wasn’t truly in danger with her Mom standing at the edge of the hatch, especially as her Mom had dove down too soon.
As she was drying off in the attic, she told her mother: “I have to keep doing this alone.”
Her mother didn’t like that idea at all, but she knew there was nothing she could do, except perhaps encourage Morphia to start getting paid for all her storytelling. It’d be a start at least. She could handle being Morphia’s manager or agent, making money off of her daughter, plus, having Morphia write off her managerial wages as a business expense.
Morphia didn’t want to discuss any of the business aspects though, and sent her mother away. She returned to the hatch and thought about trying again right away, and the other possibilities-- of what she could do underwater. Hours passed, and she decided to wait until the next day to try again. Luckily, she was able to avoid her parents for the rest of the day.
But as she returned to her bedroom each time, her lung capacity increased, so she was able to last longer under the water before she finally started drowning. Granted, Morphia could’ve just taken deep breaths right away, gulping down the water, but she didn’t want to force things, just in case she was wrong. So, instead, she brought her favorite wicker chair from the sitting room, and sunk it down to the floor, where she secured it with some nails. Now, at least Morphia had somewhere to sit comfortably for a while.
The fish came later.
She began with catfish, then changed them for coy as they were more colorful and less creepy. Next, she switched to salt water and had butterfly fish. Then seahorses. Now she had puffer fish floating around her. Switching to salt water and the fish didn’t change her visions in any way. However, the fish made the wait before drowning herself a little more pleasurable.
While sitting on her chair one day, she even thought of adding sharks, or eels, or barracudas or some other nasty fish, to make things a little more interesting, dangerous, and challenging, but she wasn’t ready to be quite so extreme just yet. The puffer fish were nice, and since they were still alive, Morphia figured she’d let them stay a while longer.
She also found that more ideas of her own were blossoming. Ideas she could explore in her own stories. Once again , Morphia began to write new stories, and she also returned to all those old fragments that she’d written before, and found they weren’t so bad after all-- that they were worth exploring further. She realized that she had talent as a writer and as a storyteller in her own right, and that her skills were growing.
In the meantime, she returned to her bedroom, seeking out each vision, hoping to avoid her death now
, in order that she could keep sharing them. Despite working on her own stories, and eventually sharing them as well on the streets, alternating between her own stories and the visions, she didn’t want to give up on her visions. She still had more to learn, and more to share. But Morphia was aware that there could come a time when she wouldn’t be able to swim fast enough and hard enough to save herself. And that final vision would be hers alone-- the last thing she’d ever see. Morphia accepted that with joy in her heart, in those final moments knowing that she had done all she could to live a meaningful life-- a life meaningful for her at the very least. Being a doctor would’ve been fine and noble, but it wasn’t in her heart, nor was exploiting her storytelling as her parents hoped. Plus, Morphia had also spent a lot of her money to get the answers for her SATs. She was very intelligent, but not half as smart as her parents thought she was. Stories she could tell. Operating on people was better left to the MENSA-smart folks.
THE END
This Collection is presented by THE 9 TALES SERIES for more information on this series please visit www.brideofchaos.com
THE AUTHORS YOU SHOULD BE READING
Visit our Website for FREE STORIES
And ‘Like’ us on Facebook for all the latest news and FREE PROMOTIONS
https://www.facebook.com/The9Tales
Other 9Tales Available Now:
VULTURE & Other Tales- The popular villain of the Horrors of Church Hill series accompanies 8 other tales of terror. For more horror check out: PROMISED: TALES OF SUSPENSE & TERROR
TALES AT THE WORLD’S END- A foray into the end of days. 7 authors bring some of the most shocking, poetic and action packed tales to your Kindle with stories about alien invasions, floods, zombies, evil board games and other catastrophes that will make the final days on Earth memorable ones. #1-3 available.
GLIMPSES: TALES OF FICTION & FANTASY- Maynard Sims is spotlighted in this amazing collection of noir, horror, and science fiction.
9TALES TOLD IN THE DARK- Gather round for 9 terrify stories featuring evil clowns, curses and the undead. #1-19 available
9TALES FROM ELSEWHERE- a unique blend of stories takes you to worlds distant from our own. Science Fiction, Fantasy and even Westerns. #1-11 available.
LOOK FOR MORE 9TALES RELEASES THROUGHOUT 2016!!
And keep up with these authors and more in our Alumni at http://www.brideofchaos.com
© 2016 Bride of Chaos
Thank you for reading! And all of your support over the last 3 years. We have greatly enjoyed all the authors we have published and hope you all have as well. We are most excited to see where they go next.
Our monthly run of 9Tales From Elsewhere ends with this issue. In the future there may be additional Elsewhere issues, but for now we will be focusing on more specific anthologies.
If you would like to see more issues of any 9Tales series please give us an email at [email protected]
9 Tales From Elsewhere 11 Page 13