Blades of grass that had grown over BigWheel tracks and sledding paths brushed up against each other in the night breeze. Darkness, having settled over the land, latched onto any of nature’s limbs it could grab hold of. The blackness intensified as it invaded light’s territory, eating away at the precious biological infrastructure until nothing remained. Insects aimlessly wandered their vast world in search of shelter, only to find their destination missing, having been devoured by a void of space. 

 

The indistinguishable sound of human, industrialized ruckus rang through the air as nothing continued to creep across forbidden territory. Light spilled out of the guts of the house atop the hill, partially illuminating the person responsible for the noise. Darkness angrily whipped around to face the interruption, prepared to envelop the human with nothing, for they were helpless without something. Nothing summoned every bit of energy it had and threw itself over the girl, who was sitting with her knees pulled to her chest atop the hill, her hands mindlessly grazing the grass. 

 

The grass was cool, Adalyn noticed, as she itched her bare legs. She never understood how laying in grass was established as an enjoyable activity. It’s possible that she hasn’t sat in the right grass yet, but from her experience, the benefit was a complete mystery. It’s awful selfish, though, to assume grass exists for human leisure, so she didn’t mind the persistent discomfort. . 

 

Adalyn planted the palms of her hands in the grass and craned her neck to look at the sky. She could make out two faint lights before they flickered off, the night sky clumsily and inadequately punctured like a juice box in the hands of a toddler. Disappointed with the lack of fiery gas in the sky, she surveyed the yard she grew up in. It used to be so big it was the extent of the entire universe. Right now, though, the universe was utterly black. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and allowed them to reopen to reset her vision, since surely there must be something -- anything -- there. She began to flail her arms out, desperately trying to locate something solid, but when her hands returned to her sides, they were empty. Even the life, rooted in the earth, was abandoning her; Adalyn was completely alone. 

 

Accepting her fate as an outcast, Adalyn brought a pipe to her lips; she bought it back in high school, intrigued by the winding red and blue curling through the transparent glass. When she flicked her lighter, life in the yard ceased to make noise, acquiescing to the familiar spark of a handheld flame. It’s funny, Adalyn thought, that Prometheus gave the humans fire, consequently subjecting his immortal self to infinite torture, just for us to turn around and make a mockery of his sacrifice by giving anyone the power to start flame. She pitied the titan as she watched the ember in her pipe glow brighter as she took in her breath. 

 

The darkness, composed of nothing, stalked the woman and her light. It would inch forward, timidly, but determined, to snuff out the flame. The ominous cloud of nothing, untainted by human intervention, crested, lapping the grassy terrain, briefly spilling over Adalyn’s feet before receding. 

 

Adalyn gave no mind to the nothingness tickling her toes. Instead, she surveyed the plot of land that housed her life before it was real. (She relit her pipe). With her right hand fidgeting with blades of grass, she realized she would never return here. Perhaps years down the line she would be drawn back here on a self-actualization journey wearing the mask of mid-life crisis, but until then, never. 

 

A creature scurrying through the brush startled Adalyn, reminding her to allow the smoke to escape her lungs. (In her hands was a handful of grass, severed from its home). 

 

An acre away, the cloud of nothingness composed of the same particles that everything consists of was melting into an abandoned clearing shielded by the leafless branches of trees drained of life. As it advanced, a repelling force defended the abandoned territory, firmly believing that something within the twenty square feet of dust was so vital to earth’s continued rotation through space was worth defending -- even if it cost its own existence. The darkness would creep into enemy territory only to be met with the equal and opposite, forcing it high into the air. Cut out of nothing was a small ring of everything, struggling to remain impenetrable to the inevitable invasion. At its last whits end, the shimmering apparition croaked out its’ last hope for survival: Adalyn. 

 

With her knees to her chest, Adalyn sat at the top of the hill preoccupied with tearing grass from the earth, she barely heard the effort to reach her. When she heard her name, clear and crisp, desperately called out from besides her, she stood quickly and moved towards whatever it was that summoned her. Her breath quickened as she briskly navigated the pitch-black night; blades of grass slipping between her fingers and trailing behind. 

 

As she moved closer to the clearing, a pit of dread fell from her throat to her stomach and settled, for she had not ventured past the lanky branches of immortal trees since she had rubber bands reshaping her teeth. Seeing the faint, shimmering light from behind the brush, Adalyn exhaled, knowing she would have to venture into her abandoned oasis once more. 

 

Awkwardly, she parted the overgrown plants that had withstood thunderstorms worthy of watching from a garage. The thick undergrowth, sensing her return, chased her as she made a futile attempt to carve a path into the earth. Sharp twigs teased the back of her neck, shocked she had returned. As she traversed farther past the neglected parts of the yard, the straw-like grass, remembering her from when it was luscious, green, and trimmed, reached up to wrap itself around her wrists. Adalyn shook herself free from her shackles of the earth, tripping over a log into the twenty square feet she once believed was only visible to herself.

 

On the ground, Adalyn swung her legs out in front of her and began to take note of the surroundings. The ground was littered with the decaying parts of the yard, thrown out of sight of other humans that would be filled with disgust at the sight of a dead branch. Nothing claimed them. Adalyn moved her fingers from her legs to the ground, planting her palms firmly atop the dry soil that had been unstirred for years. She watched her own chest rise and fall with the sway of the trees, their branches entangled with their neighbors intricately and delicately in a web they grew together. Bark melted into neighboring limbs, mixing, mingling with the lifeless life around it. A lump in her throat surfaced as she watched dead life enjoy the company of other dead life, and she clenched her hands to fight off the tears. Sitting in the middle of a suburban cemetery, Adalyn soon realized that she, too, would be laid to rest with the lifeless life. 

 

The shimmering force that had summoned her weaved between the little moonlight that penetrated the tree’s branches, plopping itself before her in a massive puddle. Without warning, it sprung high into the air like a geyser, and as it dove back down to earth, enveloped Adalyn, drowning her in itself. 

 

When she opened her eyes, she saw dust particles floating through the air illuminated by the sunlight seeping past the pale pink walls. It’s shabby, but an eight-year-old will use anything when they’re in need of a hideaway -- even an indoor Disney princess pop up tent. Adalyn, bringing her hands up to open the door to her kingdom, noticed the lack of marks on her fingers. She inspected her new body, for no vessel she has occupied would be free of nails torn to shreds. Her skin had been wiped clean; the scars that ran across her legs and wrists had been completely erased. 

 

The sunlight continued to trickle into the tent, becoming tinged with pink as it passed through the nylon. The natural warmth embraced Adalyn, eliciting a laughing fit from her now unpicked lips that rose from her stomach effortlessly, filling the pure air with the blessings of innocence and naivety. 

 

Instantly the air grew chilly. Wind rushed past her castle, tearing the flimsy walls down as it went. The gusts strengthened -- her hair whipped in front of her eyes as her ears filled with the sound of rushing air. As her surroundings grew darker and colder, she tried to pry her eyes open to fight the impending change. To no avail. 

 

Everything went quiet. 

 

Timidly, Adalyn parted her eyelashes with a picturesque beauty only found in the most mundane of human behaviors. There was no noticeable difference, though, between her eyes when they were open and when they were closed -- there was nothing there. All that surrounded her was emptiness. She was frozen in her position, the nothingness was too dense for her hand (now covered in nail stubs and hangnails) to part. She could only hear the ringing in her ears that filled silent spaces. 

 

The wail of tears she had already cried broke through the nothingness composed of the particles that make up everything. Adalyn, trying with all her might to bring her hands to her ears, to protect herself from the pain she’s already been subjected to, but couldn’t do anything but squirm under the pressure of her screams. The cries grew louder, and she heard another voice surmounting the volume of her wails. The voice, vitriolic and violent, taunted her. She felt her face, hot with tears, pressed up against a familiar, cool linoleum floor as the voice grew louder, but there was nothing there. She couldn’t move. 

 

The darkness, made of nothing and made of everything, that had successfully invaded the other corners of what used to be her home, was winning the battle taking place at the twenty square foot battleground. With one final sweep, nothing shot itself up in the air in one big cloud and fell over Adalyn, laying to rest the last persisting piece of suburbia. 

 

She never returned.