Voices Of The Dead

Reads: 98  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 1

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is random. I'm am literally just writing this. I have no idea what it is or if it ever will be anything.

Submitted: February 02, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 02, 2012



They taunted me with dreams of a place better. They spoke in riddles; horrible tantalizing riddles spilled from their mouths like water off a waterfall. I closed my eyes attempting to block out the voices but they pulled me further into their overwhelming maddness. My ears drank every word like it was nectar from the gods and each drop stung my soul making my insides burn. My body felt weightless while my mind was driven further into insanity. 

I clenched my fist, fighting off the impending maddness threating to consume me. My entire body was frozen with my entire being focused of driving out the words they spoke. 

"Follow..." they murmmered in their voices like honey. I felt my spirt rising with them before my consciousness took over and willed myself back down. The sharp stab of reality painful but a excellent reminder that to escape I must open my eyes and face what was before me. 

My eyes opened only to see more darkness. I had to touch my open eyelids just to make sure they were truly open for the world was just as dark as it had been when they were closed. My heart sped up in panic before I felt a smile spread across my face. 

"Ok, come on. I beat your 'test'. Jokes up." I said laughingly. I heard a tired chukle come from the darkness. In a second the room was illuminated by a bright blue light. I squinted into the light while my eyes tried to adjust to the quick change in light. While my eyes still burned from the sudden exposure to light they sought out an old, hunched over man with a snow white beard hanging down to the ground. He smiled and the expression looked like it was made for his face. His infectious smile caused me to grin ear to ear as I got up off the wooden floor of the bare room. 

"Better." he said with a laugh. "Much better than I expected. But..." he continued but I cut the old man off, already knowing what he would say.

"Not good enough." I finished for him with a sigh. I ran my hand through my long black hair as I tried not to show my dissipointment. The old man saw it despite my efforts and his smile softened into one of compassion.

"I'm sorry, child. You started to go with them...that can't happen." He  gestured around the small, white room with the old wood floors and no door. "Here your safe, but out in the real world..." he trailed off. He knew I knew what to say next.

"Theres no boundries between this world in the next." I said monotonously. I had uttered this phrase over a million times within the past few months and it now rolled of my tounge effortlessly. The old man smiled a weary smile. I know he must have heard these words from thousands of students; most of which were now dead. I knew it must pain him to be in this room once again, teaching a lesson he had not had to in over sixty years.

"Correct. Now, come, lets leave this depressing place for one more jovial." he said, the same smile I had seen so often light up his features appear on his face once more. I walked up to stand next to him in front of one of the blank, white walls. He leaned towards it so his beard tickled the blank surface and his lips were less than a centimeter away from the white paint. I saw his lips move as he wispered something to the wall. Next thing I knew an outline of the door appeared on the once blank surface and within a few seconds the outline was colored in with a plain wooden door. He grabbed the handle with his wrinkled hand and opened it to a better place where voices did not torture the simple minds of people. 

He walked through and I followed him close behind. 

© Copyright 2017 Raven Hazlewood. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments: