Moonlight painted the room in shades of black and blue. The four walls that held it together were uninviting, yet somehow, they weren’t the least desirable thing in the room. A splintered armoire from the art deco era sat against one wall. It housed an unimpressive assortment of rags that gave it the appearance of a fancy broom closet. This dreary wardrobe sat beside a splintered desk and a rusted metal folding chair that kissed the edge of an upturned plastic milk crate meant to function as a nightstand.

A rusty bed slanted against another wall, overlooking a hopeless view from a shabby window. The metal bed was plain with stubby cylindrical legs standing on rusted pikes meant to have protective endcaps. They went missing some time ago allowing the bed to carve deep cuts into the floor whenever it was moved. Both the headboard and footboard were rounded rectangles that housed peach-colored prison bars that glowed unnaturally in the moonlight. Such an upbeat color did little to enhance this tragedy that relied on the wall for support.

Suffice to say, the bedding wasn’t suitable for a rat’s nest but at least it was on brand. The sleep set consisted of one deflated pillow and a blanket so threadbare and holey, it could easily have obtained an audience with the Pope. The mattress was flat and lifeless with rusty springs that would bare their teeth whenever there was an opportunity to inflict tetanus. Aside from that, the mattress barely functioned as it was intended to, providing very little support for the poor soul resting on top.

Upon this heap of trash, she lay like a corpse with arms stiff at her side. Her hair was fried, damaged, and slicked into a damp knot that rested on her pillow. Beads of sweat collected on her bulbous forehead and trickled down her heart-shaped face. Her nose was broad and uncomplicated; lips full and regal. The girl’s chest rose then fell before her eyes fluttered open.

The cool gray eyes of Emily Talibot Blue stared down a ceiling warped by decades of water damage. Her eyes traced the crests and falls of brown stained lumps to a moldy colony of plaster in the corner of the ceiling. She coughed sharply while shifting to one side. The lunar light illuminated a veil of dust surrounding her head as her mind began to narrate the hopelessness outside her window.

The view outside my window is like an old friend arriving in the dead of night. My weary eyes trace her silhouette as she saunters from the clouds. Low humming a sweet tune that gently rouses a lamp to flicker, she settles down on a busy intersection hoisted above the freeway. I adjust my pillow as her head rolls back behind a smokestack and blows a plume of toxins into the stratosphere. Ruby and citrine race up and down her feet as a colorful cast of folks gather around her ankles. I settle down into my subconscious as my eyes pour over the world below.

Emily had a very active imagination with a flair for wordplay that remained hidden to the rest of the world. A land of garbage festered outside her window—and in it—she saw hundreds of stories just waiting to be told.

Alongside the massive soot-stained posts of a tarnished gate lay stained mattresses, broken electronics, discarded tires, used needles, and human excrement. The rusty pickets kept quite the collection of undesirable objects that only served to attract the same quality of people. It was a haven for the addicted looking to quickly disappear from the world or anyone in need of a makeshift toilet—and you would be shocked to discover the number of patrons this facility serviced.

At one time, these gilded gates barred the entrance to a row of magnificent mansions, but years of neglect changed that. The guardhouse was dilapidated with windows that lay in pieces on the ground. Beyond the entrance stood a row of twenty or so mansions. Thick vine and root twist the roofs off several posh palaces, while charred husks of others remained as calling cards for the city’s most passionate residents.

The bush grew so thick around the entire mess to the point that few dared enter. It was said the worst of humanity went unchecked beyond those gates and no one in their right mind would ever venture past them. Overgrown veg spilled onto the bordering sidewalk making it virtually impossible to walk undisturbed. The stench from weeds during hot summer days was only bested by a lashing from one of the many thorny fingers that swayed on a cool summer’s eve. Faded chip bags often waved in the breeze while shiny wrappers glimmered in pop bottles nestled like ornaments inside the garden of weeds. The whole mess was a sight to see on any day and ten times worse at night.

Whenever the nights grew still like this, Emily was drawn to that place. On several occasions, she swore she saw lights flicker deep within the thick, but she wouldn’t dare to tell a soul if she saw them tonight. It only took one time for her inquisitive spirit to get crushed for being overly observant.

What made you think the sister wouldn’t punish you for speaking about magic...? She said I had a ‘demonic predilection’. Called me a liar; pinching my arm so hard that it bled...I still got the mark and it won’t go away. She didn’t stop there—pressing me up against that glass like some lunatic. The glass is so thin...I thought it was going to cut me, but it didn’t break. Maybe because I didn’t resist her...I was so weak back in the day. I didn’t move while she assaulted me...I was scared for my life! Even when I heard cracking...I know it was cracking but I was too scared to react. She thumped the glass and said ‘we found you in the trash and we won’t hesitate to take you back where your whore mother dumped you.’ What possesses another human being to say something like that? That was the foulest thing someone ever said to my face and all I did was eat it (gulp).

The feeling of being undesirable—like most doubts—grew like a persistent weed in the back of Emily’s mind. It didn’t take much for this feeling to grow into a permanent fixture in her life. Every time she eyed those miserable gates, it was a constant reminder of how she came into this world. The emotions that grabbed her were intense and it took everything she had to turn away from the gate at times. Tonight, the fear was no different.

Emily stood at her window watching and listening to the activity below. Her gaze quickly lost itself in the shadowy figures dancing in the screaming winds. It sounded like a helpless sow being slaughtered and Emily only found peace when the screaming stopped. That was one of the cues to start winding down for the night.

Returning to that rickety bed, Emily wrapped herself in tattered bedding, eyes drifting over the nigh lands one last time. Before closing her eyes, a brilliant light nearly blinded them, forcing Emily from bed. Soot fell on her nose as she walked to the window again. She could feel tremors racing through her fingertips as she brushed the wall along the way. It felt like an aftershock and the scene outside the window confirmed as much.

Emily’s eyes climbed above the horizon where they witnessed a tree bending unnaturally under the moonlight. Her eyes could feel the tension in the tree; whatever was parting it was about to snap it in two. Before the tension ripped the tree apart, it clapped whole again, sending an explosion of debris into the night sky.

A second tree shook before the external wall of a mansion gave way. In another flash of brilliant light, the room pulsated before a crackling boom sent the window into a shaking fit. Emily placed her palm against the windowpane hoping a steady hand would prevent it from breaking. The vibrations coursed through her frame until the shaking stopped and everything nearest to her fell silent. She returned to bed and set down.

In the stillness between her head, there was a scratching at the base of her eardrum coming from miles away. She could feel blades of grass bending in tandem with the delicate hairs in her inner ear. It was followed by a soft thrashing that felt like tiny legs crawling out of her ear canal. The sensation was so unnerving that Emily brushed her earlobe with an index finger, constantly fearing a roach had laid eggs in her ear while she slept. Emily dug out smeared earwax and rolled it into a ball between her fingers as she tried to catch her senses. She flicked the ball of wax at the window.

Everything in her being wanted her at that window, but Emily was too terrified to leave the bed. If she could just roll her head back and direct her attention towards the ceiling once more, she could put this behind her. But her head refused to move anywhere near the pillow; it was stuck.

Emily’s head weighed a ton at that moment; and for another reason, it felt unbalanced. Somehow it swung south and in order to keep balance, she placed a foot on the ground. And just to stop the momentum, she took several steps forward. Luckily the glass prevented her from falling to her death.

Thunder rattled the window as Emily watched brown gook dribble down a mound of garbage hugging that godawful gate. The disgusting dribble snaked out like puss before eventually flowing like a steady stream of piss. The putrid liquid curled down the street and slowly fed into an equally rancid nest of twigs that plugged up the closest storm drain. The gushing soon came to a dribble as a wall of garbage that barred the gate fell away revealing two sets of human legs. This was a lot for Emily to process but she was enchanted.

Before she began to question whom these appendages belonged to, one flexed at the knee. It was a natural bend that didn’t appear to be the result of gravity or latent rigor mortis. When both sets of limbs suddenly stood to their feet, Emily nearly toppled over due to the shock of it all. Loose skin hanging from the inner thighs clapped together as a fleshy sac fell between the sets of legs fused at their tailbones. The sac had bright red pimples protruding from its wrinkled surface. When the flesh sac slowly began swinging from the droopy buttocks—every grotesque foot arched until they rested on the tips of gnarled toes.