Living in the Darkness

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
alone in the dark, closed in a box... how would you survive?

Submitted: March 05, 2007

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Submitted: March 05, 2007



Sitting cross legged in the darkness I feel along my legs with my blistered fingers and find the open sores on my ankles.

With the index finger of my left hand, I break the freshly sealed scab, the puss running again like it has done so often before. I imagine it is yellow but the dark hides the colour from me. Soon the puss is over run with blood, I can feel it running out of me. My leg has gone cold, it feels as if running water is flowing inside my leg, and being released in torrents out of my ankle. The hot blood is flowing freely, forming a puddle around where I sit. Slowly it is congealing on top of the already crusted blood that i sit on. It is my own blood on the floor around me; from many cuts that i dont allow to heal. If they heal I know I will die.

Satisfied that I have shed enough of my life's source, I make a scoop with my left hand and place it beneath the still flowing wound, though now the seeping has slowed again. My right hand acts as a paddle and sweeps the cooling liquid into my cupped palm. The feel of my own blood held in my palm has ceased to affect me, a distant memory tells me that I should be horrified or disgusted. That was then, if the memory ever was real. It doesnt seem to be real to me anymore, I dont know what is real anymore. All that I am sure of is that I hold in my hand the only substance that can sustain me.

Slowly. not bothering to lift my eyelids, I lift the hand to my lips and the liquid smothers my lips and binds my tongue. Somewhere in my forgotten consciousness my mind shouts at me, 'You're drinking your own blood!' but the thought is quickly supressed by the urge to live, to have an existance.

In my eagerness to taste the the liquid, something I only vaguely remember the name to, I nearly choke myself. splutter and the liquid is sprayed from my soaked lips, I feel it land on my naked body. Soon it will dry and flake, along with the skin that is pealing away from my legs and torso.In the dried blood immediately around where I am sat there is hair sown into the rusted substance. The hair came from my own body, my legs are now bare apart from the blood that just dripped from my lips and the sores randomly marking my skin. I have to get at the liquid, it is the only way I know how.

The liquid. It is my ownly craving now, I do not recall ever wanting anything else. It is what sustains me, and I believe I love it. Though what is love? Did I just imagine that word, I must have as I dont recall loving anything before now. With an alien sigh, a raspy sound that I dont recognise coming from my mouth ever before, I stretched my legs infront of me untill they touch the blackness, the wall. Letting myself fall back onto the floor, the ground crunching beneath my weightlessness. I stretch my arms until they too reach a wall.

The familiarity is comforting and a smile shapes itself on my lips, cracking the skin there. Soon my breathing slows, untill it is deathly quiet and is barely noticeable. I sleep. Soon I will wake again and start on the other ankle.

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