Jack and Jill

Words by Amelia Daisa (@aameliadaisa)

Photos shot by Felix Schura and Helena Mack

Jack and Jill went up the hill, the dirt beneath their feet as new to the world as their own flesh.

The hill was nameless, along with the lush vegetation that blanketed it. No memory of footprints

stamped the soil. Jack led the trek to the top, bearing the weight of beginning. Jill followed, like

before. The air around them seemed to listen.

They went to fetch water from a well they were told lived atop the hill, though their thirst was too young to learn of its sharp edges. The ground around them was brimming with life. It whispered promise in their ears as they ascended. Jack carved out a path, and the earth did not resist.

Above them, the sky turned heavy without warning. Rain had no name in their mouths yet. Compared to the sunbeams that greeted the pair upon their creation, it was cold and oppressive. Cupping their hands, the rainfall made puddles in their palms. Jack and Jill sipped until their mouths were no longer dry. Jill thought aloud about turning back, but Jack insisted on pushing forward. She followed, feeling obliged to her progenitor.

The mountain below them mysteriously transfigured from dirt into mud. Their bare bodies slipped and fell to the ground, over and over. Still, Jack was persistent. Their bodies, slick with earth, continued up the path.

Soon, a murmured lipping spilled softly into their ears. The rain had slowed, leaving a river in its wake, flowing through the hollow of the hill. Once again, they drank thirstily. The pair took turns dipping their hands in the water and cleaning the mud off the other. Splashing around, the earth listened as they laughed. The sound was new to the world.

When their play was done, Jill turned to begin their descent. Grabbing her shoulder, Jack insisted they continue on. He was intent on reaching the top.

Soon, their bodies began to falter. Their lungs heaved against the steep climb, and their legs trembled from the strain. Jill felt an unexplainable tightening in her belly and chest. Something wasn’t right. The sharpness of the air had changed into something strange. Below her feet, no life softened the jagged rocks. The earth offered no mercy.

At last, they reached the peak of the hill. There was no birdsong, no rustle of life. Nothing lived where the hilltop lay bare against the firmament of the heavens. Nothing but a well, sitting still, awaiting their arrival.

Jack stilled in quiet awe. He had stepped beyond everything he had ever known before. They both had never been to this height before. It was frightening, exhilarating.

Jill approached the well with caution, drawn to its gaping mouth. The water sparkled like stars in a sky so black, it had forgotten how to turn. It was so stagnant, this dark water. Balancing on the tips of her toes, she reached down and cradled her hand as a cup. Bringing it to her lips, she drank the darkness.

An unknown figure peered back at her. It was a revelation.

The air was no longer weightless, but clung to her skin like the mud had. She felt separate from herself, exposed. Jack appeared next to her at the opening of the well, drinking thirstily from his prize. Instinct worked faster than thought, and Jill cupped her breasts to hide from his gaze. But his eyes weren't on her. Gazing back at him, in the dark water below, was his revelation. Two above, two below.

After a deep silence, their gaze lifted from the water. The pair turned their attention to the hilltop they worked so hard to summit. Once only empty, it was now exposed.

Then, the sky broke. A deep fracture of thunder split through the grey clouds above them. Their bodies stood still in a horrible knowing. The ground, slick with rain, fell beneath them. Jack stumbled down the hill first. Jill followed, just as before. Grasping at earth that would not keep them, down they went, out of the height they had claimed.