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Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic
You've never realized, that all I'm certain of. The shadows on your walls and the invisible scent under your nose; the flicker of a bulb and the tick of a clock - none of those have ever occurred to you as anything of importance... But when it finally decides to wake up from its slumber, are you ready to contain it? Or are you too feeble for the task?

That creature has never touched a nerve of yours, but when it does, it's too late for you to write another story for your mistakes.

Submitted: September 04, 2014

A A A | A A A

Submitted: September 04, 2014





Spikes of chill assault my back, shooting sharp jolts of a murky feeling up and down my spine. Pressing myself harder against the wall, I glance up at the brewing sky – dust-grey clouds knitting themselves together, forming a blanket between me and the sun’s bright rays. There isn’t a strip of hope left on Earth – only the shadows persisting in alleys and the dark sacks under our eyes. Sighing, I sweep my gaze left and right. Good, nobody’s around – better if not a soul knows this.


Getting onto my feet, I drag my empty shell off to a looming pole in the center of the pale-brown field, the life drained almost completely from the rickety grass waving austerely in the whopping wind. Strands of dark hair whip my face, slithering down my neck as the current calms, nonetheless, blocking my vision again the second the gale picks up its velocity.


Grasping for the cooling pole, the creature in the pit of my stomach begins thrashing, its tail sweeping, swirling pandemonium within me as though it were a broom with dust. A wave of nausea washes over my consciousness, leaving trails of vertigo behind in its wake. Scolding at myself silently, I close my eyes, gathering all my strength; prying the heavy weight off my eyes, a new atmosphere settles around me – the wind a distant hum in my ears; the chaos-riddled field an alien world; the growling sky the heartbeat of a new born baby.


Hauling myself up the pole, I begin climbing, inch by inch, advancing on the roaring God hovering above the smoldered clouds. A strip of lightning flashes, striking the horizon line with a low guttural thuudd. Shuddering slightly, I reach further up the pole – just a few more metres, just two more –




My grip slips off the unforgivingly cold metal. Flailing, tension builds in the lean muscles lining my legs – I throw my hands back onto the pole, my heart desperately pounding against my ribcage, thrusting itself repetitively against my chest for freedom. The fractured sky rips apart, the clouds no longer capable of holding their rage, their words of fury replenishing the Earth's despair. Plop. Plop. Plop.


Propping myself atop the pole’s arctic-cold surface, I roll my head backwards; droplets of rain splash against my face, streaming down my cheeks like rapid rivers flowing through wild terrains. Another clap of thunder snaps me out of it all, throwing my life onto the verge of falling into the mush below.


A streak of white nicks a chunk of land nearby, spitting fire out of the soil as though it were Hell vomiting disdain onto Earth, the conflagration burning bright against the lurking night.


Crimson spots adorn the black at the corners of my eyes as the beast within me writhes again, this time its claws slashing my heart into ribbons, the remains falling gently onto the pit of my stomach like skin of a shedding snake.


Why wouldn’t you recede? I would’ve asked if I were so naïve. Why wouldn’t you? Isn’t the pain I’m bearing enough to fulfil you?


A seemingly eternal stretch of silence would respond me, but not for too long, as for a dark, slurred yet clear voice would whisper against my ear, its breath a wave of hollowed-out warmth, No, nothing has ever fulfilled me – all I’m waiting for is your surrender. Your freedom. I am fear, and you should learn to fear me.


It comes before I know it: the thin piece of thread I’ve been clinging onto cut from the world in a split second followed by a thunderous clash, switching my mind off the blinding white of the lightning engulfing me.


Everything black, that all I remember. Black then, black now. God will ask me, and all I’ll say is, I’ve been living in the dark, and nobody has tried lighting a path for me. So I lit one for myself.


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