30. THE WOMAN WITH WHITE HAIR
THE WOMAN WITH WHITE HAIR
The last time Isela wandered into The Inflorescence, there was an old woman floating inside.
Her graying body was made of sturdy thick vines, fibrous roots, and burgundy muscle under the ash colored flesh.
When she shifted her body from side to side, the sound of bells chimed.
Her long white hair threaded itself into every part of the room, reflecting bright white light as though it were sunlit snow.
Uneasy by the viejita's presence, Isela made an attempt to turn back quietly and flee, but she could not move an inch when the woman spoke to her. She froze in place as though she were tethered by her feet. Through telepathy and floating words written in smoke, the old woman spoke to Isela. She grabbed Isela by the chin and proclaimed to know Isela’s future.
She pushed at the center of Isela's forehead with her slender pointer and middle fingers, nudging Isela's head back, and alleged she was one of Isela’s futures. She smiled at Isela with gray teeth, dashed behind her and then covered Isela’s eyes with her white hair.
The old woman shushed Isela who had not said a word since stepping into The Inflorescence.
She tapped her in the center of her forehead with her gray fingers three times.
Isela saw herself laid out in White Sands National Park, taking in jagged breaths, surrounded by her own blood with drag paths of her appendages in four different directions.
Her body sunk under the sand and her bones pulverized into glittering granules.
Isela watched herself living alone in a dark home, succumbing to time.
Glowing pink wet tumors cascaded inside of her lungs and up her throat like blooming mushrooms. Isela watched herself rotting into the floorboards of the house, a liquified version of her body being consumed by hawks and owls.
Isela watched herself die in multiple ways.
She was not amused or surprised, as death wasn’t something that scared her.
She was annoyed. She narrowed her eyes at the viejita and stopped herself from spitting on her face.
She was irritated by this woman who was trying to teach her a lesson.
A lesson for what? The old woman was tickled by all of it.
She cackled as tendrils of her hair wrapped themselves around Isela.
Her hair slithered around Isela’s body like a spider’s webbing until Isela was smothered with her lips turning blue.
The hair lifted her up and then unraveled her into a quiet empty room with four muddy walls and a window that gave her a view of the backyard.
The walls creeped toward the center, shrinking the size of the room slowly, but surely.
Ink cap mushrooms sprouted around her feet as she walked toward the open window.
Ghosts waved at Isela. They could have been ancestors or more tormentors.
Shadows and orbs of light flickered and swarmed the yard.
Isela ignored them all and walked out of the room without saying a word.