(Short Story) Garnished in Misery

There was a man—a miserable, miserable man who had nothing to lose. In his drunken stupor, during the dead of night, he stumbled into the nearby woods known for its perilous dangers.

It was dark, unknown, cold and frigid. He had known that for a while. But the lure of quick death and release from this miserable life was just sweet enough to pull him deeper into the depths. And as the trees grew larger and his legs swayed further, he squeezed through the thicket, continuing forth with swiveling eyes and blurred sight.

Minutes passed by; his arms lost strength to push branches away. He thought he could see eyes. A bunch of eyes. Red, menacing, sharp—wolf eyes.

Eat me, he begged. Just end it all. Eat me. I taste delicious. Fat like pork, aged like fine wine. Eat me. But the eyes disappeared, and he stumbled onwards towards another chance at his inevitable end.

And it felt like hours.

Finally, he broke into a clearing. His vision refocused; his legs were back to normal. The moonlight shone through the forest canopy, resting in small, polka dot splotches on a quaint, cerulean pond. And in the center was a person perched atop a boulder. No, it wasn’t quite person but rather a figure half lady and fish—a figure that reminded him all too much of the fairy tale stories he’d been told before. If not for his thoughtless mind, he’d have questioned it more than twice or thrice. Instead, he watched her until she finally spoke—

“Human, you’ve come far,” she said. Her tail waded in the water, creating faint ripples on the surface. Sprawled across the bottom of the clear, crystal pond were heaps of colorful, glass-like orbs the size of baseballs. “I offer you an exchange.”

Exchange, he thought. What kind of exchange?

And as if she’d read his mind, she said, “A memory for a memory. As many as you’d like. They’re of the most delightful kinds.”

Memories… He was a miserable, miserable man. In fact, he thought he was the most miserablest of them all. If it felt that it were better to be eaten than alive, how much harm would it be to try and rid himself of all these bad, bad memories? Of course he’d take the offer. He’d take it every single time. If he could rid himself of all these nightmares, life would feel so much more worth living. If only he had all those wonderful, happy, brilliant memories that everyone else seemed to have, what wouldn’t he exchange for them?

The lady pulled out an orb from below. It glowed a warm orange. She stretched her arm as far as she could, never moving from her position on the stone. “Here. A taste.”

The man instinctively waded into the pond, reached out and clawed it out of her hands. And the moment it had touched his fingers…

He could see far into a meadow of barley—golden in color, waving gently in the warm, afternoon breeze. Over yonder, he could see a small, cozy cottage, smoke billowing out from a rustic chimney like puffs of pillows. A waterwheel spun all so smoothly. Beautiful was all that he could think before he was abruptly snapped away from the scene.

He was back at the pond. The lady rested her head on the stone, tail playfully flipping around in the back. “So?” she asked. In her hand was another orb. “More?”

The man nodded.

“Then what memory would you like to offer?”

He was a miserable, miserable man. He had plenty of memories to rid of. The first one being his most recent—

Just today, he had received his first letter of termination. Plopped on his desk with nothing else attached. He had worked there for so long, so so many years—so much effort gone to waste. He had devoted his everything, and yet, he was fired as if he weren’t even there. Not even a single visit. Not a sorry, no here’s some coffee for your predicament. Nothing. He was nothing to them. A nobody.

He grabbed the orb from the lady’s hand—

The man was back at his job. He’d just gotten a promotion! More money, more time for his kids. Everyone was there for him, cheering him on. He was the boss! He was that guy to look out for! He was everything. Everything he had always wanted to be. He was finally acknowledged for his efforts. None of his work had gone to shame.

This memory. It was real. All real. He didn’t know why he had felt so miserable before, but he had just gotten that promotion he’d always wished for. What was that memory he’d sacrificed before? He couldn’t remember, but it didn’t matter! These orbs the lady was offering—they made him feel so much better! That was all that he needed to remember.

Before the man could even ask, the lady had another orb in hand. And before he grabbed it away, he already knew what memory to sacrifice next—

His divorce. And just like that, the new memory flooded through.

They were happy. Happily married, happily enjoying life together, each being the love of their lives. They were the perfect couple. Perfect in every way possible. Enviable amongst others. Nothing could break them apart except… their son had died the year before…

He broke out of his memory.

No, this wasn’t good enough. He needed more! There were too many memories to replace! He reached out to the lady of the pond. He yearned for her to understand. He needed more! More, more, more!

And the lady understood everything.

The man was back in his trance. Their son hadn’t died. Why had he even thought that had happened? The boy had been miraculously saved by a good Samaritan when he had almost drowned at the beach. They were safe; his family was safe. It was now perfect. The perfect portrait of family—a loving wife, a son, himself, a…

The lady handed over another orb.

It was now perfect. The perfect portrait of family—a loving wife, a son, himself, a pet dog. His favorite dog in the world! She would woof at him when he was sad. She’d wag her tail at his return each night. He was happy. The happiest he could ever be…

No.

No, he wasn’t. Why had he been sad to begin with? No, not yet. He wasn’t happy enough yet. He was still miserable. His childhood was miserable. If it weren’t for his parents, he could’ve had a much better family, a better life to lead. If it weren’t for the abuse, the neglect, the—

Another orb.

His life was perfect. He had perfect parents, a perfect past. He had everything he had ever wanted. Nothing had gone wrong in his life. Nothing was there to obstruct his dreams, his future. Every single attempt, every single arduous experience that was supposed to have been hardship—gone, rewarded by perfectly imagined accomplishments. It was perfect, but…

Why did he feel so… miserable?

He had everything! Didn’t he? Why? Shouldn’t he have been happy? Joyous for this gift of life? Why? Why didn’t he feel better? Why was he even here? Why, why, why!

Oh.

Oh, he knew why. He was clearly mistaken. It wasn’t perfect. None of it was. It wasn’t perfect enough just yet. His life was miserable. He was a miserable, miserable man. He had recently tripped on a loose rock just yesterday and his coat had gotten all dirty. If he hadn’t tripped—

The lady handed over an orb.

Yes, he hadn’t tripped in quite some time, but that one time—he grabbed an orb—and that other time—he grabbed another orb—and that time when he had gotten off—another orb—and that—orb—he… He was… Who was he again? Wait, what was this place?

Where… was he?

He looked around. A pond and a lady with… a tail? Was that a tail? Who was she? What was she? He couldn’t even think of a being that would fit the description of this creature. No, wait. That wasn’t important. Who was he again? Was he like her too? No, was that really important? If it were, he’d remember, right? But then, why couldn’t he remember who or what he was? He wanted to know so badly…

There was an orb in the lady’s hands. It was red, sharp. It almost looked menacing, but something about that orb… Did she want him to hold it? That alluring, alluring shade of red. Was that somehow the answer to his questions? The solution to his problems? He placed his hand on the glassy, blood surface. There was a vision, and then…

A human.

He stared at the human making her way through the forest. She looked absolutely dreadful. Or was she just famished? Her clothes were in tatters, dark circles highlighting her bloodshot eyes. She looked miserable.

But in that moment, he envied her.

She was human; she knew who she was. Unlike himself. He didn’t even know what he was. He had red, menacing eyes, but no body. No hair, no face. There were no memories of his past, no thoughts at all. He could feel nothing, think of nothing. He had experienced absolutely nothing.

He was nothing. A nobody.

But her, he could tell. She had stories to tell. He could definitely tell. She was a miserable, miserable woman who seemed to have made mistakes in the past, had mountains of regrets, but there was just something about her that made him stare. She was interesting. He didn’t know anything about her, but still. With all those sad, sad emotions dangling above her like clouds, he could only imagine what it felt like to feel. He envied that she could be somebody he never could be.

She was a miserable, miserable woman, but there was just something about her that made her feel real.